


Space Trash

by Jacklyn_Flynn



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: And Krem, Cass has a crush on the Iron Bull, Cullen can't drive stick, Dorian is getting some too, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fast and loose with the canon, Fluffy Smut, I love Krem, I said eventual smut but I didn't say how much, I think I'm soooo funny but I'm not, Jules credit to sarenkascrawls, M/M, Morgan Trevelyan, Slow Burn, Space AU, Space Trash credit to ranawaytothedas, Steamy Smut, The Herald lives on The Herald, Zevran will be there though!, buckle up buttercup, did I mention Zevran?, everyone stay calm, good tags are hard, it's gonna be a lot of smut, kinky smut, not everyone was invited to the party, protect the flea, rare pair smut first, shitty childhood (I'm a monster), shout out to my beta who learned DA and endured my ramblings and STILL was willing to beta for me, sketchy solas, soft smut, space trash, the time has come, they're endangered, think anyone would notice if I changed Bianca to Vera?, totally made up type of spirit, updating tags and smut is finally happening!, vanilla smut, y'all it was torture, you don't wanna know how long it took me to find a name that fit the Jasoom in my head
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:34:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 88,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22520098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jacklyn_Flynn/pseuds/Jacklyn_Flynn
Summary: When the Breach explodes over the planet of Haven, it spits out a ship which disappeared over eight decades before. There is only one person on board and she doesn't seem to be in any shape to lead a war. The glowing mark on her palm is the key, but her horrific history makes it difficult for the fledgling Inquisition to ask of her what it must. In order for her to do it, she will have to step into a role that embodies everything she fears and nothing she's been trained for.Cullen Rutherford is determined to do whatever he can to support her. She won't be alone in this. The issue isn't even her lack of trust in them, it's her lack of trust in herself. For so long she's been less than human. For the Inquisition to succeed, they will have to show her something she hasn't seen before. A reason to fight for people who have never accepted or treated her as one of their own.
Relationships: Cullen Rutherford/Female Trevelyan, Cullen Rutherford/Trevelyan, Dorian Pavus/Male Trevelyan, Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Iron Bull/Cassandra Pentaghast
Comments: 139
Kudos: 47





	1. The Herald

**Author's Note:**

> Wow....I can't believe how much time I've spent getting ready to write this and I'm finally putting up the first chapter. It took me forever to get it to where I finally thought it was good enough! The canon on this is going to be a little fast and loose. Main points will stay the same but some tweaking will definitely be going on. 
> 
> I dearly love my darling Jules and I'm so sad to see her where she is. She has so much growing to do and I'm so excited to write it. I've never done a slow burn before because it is _so much torture_. Especially for a smut fiend such as myself. So, bear with me!
> 
> Really though, I just want to share this with the fandom. I hope someone loves it as much as I do. I appreciate everyone who comes to read this, whether they tell me what they thought or not.

The Conclave being held at the Temple of Ashes on one of the moons of Haven in the system of Ferelden was the best, and perhaps last, hope at ending the Mage/Templar war. The last chance to quell the violence and distrust between those who could manipulate the fabric of the universe and those who feared and wanted to control that power. Veritable armies stood at the ready in the event that forbidden violence were to break out. 

The settlement on the planet of Haven held a smaller force, though considerably higher ranked. It served as a base for the left and right hand of the Divine, a former Templar Knight Commander and an Antivan ambassador. All responsible for the safety of Conclave. The knowledge and experience of the four was unparalleled. They were prepared for everything. 

Except for the Breach.

When it exploded in the sky the light was blinding, as if the system had birthed a new sun. The dispersal of the light revealed the Temple of Ashes, and much of the moon itself, had been devastated. The tear in space that would come to be known as the Breach flared green, sparking and spitting debris. 

One of the things ejected from the green mass was a ship. A ship that had potential answers to the catastrophe. Every faction scrambled to secure it, but the Hands of the Divine reached it first. 

When the tug pulled it into the atmosphere, an automatic system kicked on. The trajectory toward Haven remained the same and it landed just outside the town. It was large enough to shake the ground under the foundations. The ship was worn on the outside, aged and covered in scorch marks. The name  _ The Herald _ was emblazoned on the side. 

Entry onto the ship was suspiciously easy. No security measures seemed to be in place. First Commander Rutherford and his men searched it slowly, fully armed and silent. The ship was completely devoid of life. Signs of previous habitation were everywhere however. Dishes left out in the mess hall, clothes packed neatly in drawers in the quarters, medical bay fully stocked. And yet, not a soul to be found. 

Until they reached Control. The wide viewing portal looked over the main settlement of Haven and before it lay a woman. She was on her stomach, one arm thrown out, the other beneath her. Perhaps the oddest thing of all was the black cat laying on her back. Its paws were tucked in and its head was nestled between her shoulder blades as if ensuring her breathing continued.

One of the First Commander’s men approached and the cat rose, hissing threateningly. Cullen himself waved the man back and approached. The cat regarded him with eerie, topaz blue eyes. After a moment, it hopped off of the woman’s back and disappeared behind a console. 

“Bring a stretcher and summon Seeker Pentagast and Leliana to the Chantry.” He ordered.

\-----

Everything ached when she woke. Her knees were especially sore. She realized she was kneeling on them but didn’t know for how long. Her hands were secured in front of her and although the bonds were not tight, her left hand tingled as if it had fallen asleep. She could feel her heart begin to race when she opened her eyes and didn’t recognize her surroundings. 

Her vision was already blurry and the dim lighting of the room made it even harder to see. Her right eye focused first, a benefit of augmentation. She could make out two figures leaning over a table. One of them, a woman with short, dark hair, spoke in soft tones to the other. She couldn’t determine the gender of the second who had a hood pulled over their head. Judging by the stature, another woman.

“You’re always toting your abilities to get information and when we need it most, you are unable to deliver?” The dark-haired woman grumbled in annoyance. She spoke in an accent that Jules couldn’t place.

“Patience, Seeker. I said the information was difficult to acquire, not that I could not acquire it.” Definitely a woman and clearly Orlesian.

Jules didn’t know if she wanted them to notice her or not. It wasn’t likely they would help her if they were keeping her chained up. She  _ had  _ to get back. Jules could feel her breathing become unsteady. Her lungs drew in air in shaking pants and it blew out her nose sharply.

The woman, identified as Seeker, glanced over at her likely alerted to her change in breathing. “She’s awake.” The heavily accented voice announced. The other figure turned and she saw red hair under a hood. Her face was menacing, dangerous. A spike of fear lodged in her heart, making her breath catch. 

“What’s your name?” The red-haired woman demanded. 

“Where am I?” Jules asked. She took in the entire room, searching for a way out. It was as if she hadn’t heard them at all. 

“Answer the question.” Seeker ordered.

“Where's my ship?” A clear hint of panic edged into her voice. She could feel her heart beginning to race and her lungs couldn’t seem to take in enough air. 

“Your name!” She repeated again louder. 

“I need to get back to my ship.” Her eyes were wild and she pulled against her restraints, trying to stand. “Please. I need to get back to my ship.” Jules pleaded. 

“You're not going anywhere.” The red-haired woman said. “Not until you answer our questions.” 

The panic that had been building suddenly exploded. Jules started pulling at her cuffs frantically, trying to slip her hands free. “Please. I need to get back to my ship. I need to get back to my ship.” She kept repeating it over and over. The two women looked at each other, unsure of how to proceed. Was this a trick?

She just kept repeating “I need to get back to my ship”. Her wrists were getting raw, threatening to turn bloodied with her efforts. She was like an animal caught in a trap, ready to sacrifice a limb to get free. 

“You need to calm down.” The red-haired woman said, a little gentler than before.

And yet she kept repeating. 

“Why do you need to get back to your ship so badly?” Seeker asked. “Why is your ship here at all?” 

She received nothing more than the same phrase. She looked at the other woman. “I think it's time we got Cullen.” The redhead nodded and stepped out. She closed the cell door behind her with an ominous click of a lock.

She looked up at the Seeker. Her face was filled with panic, eyes wild. It was a look she’d seen many times on the battlefield. Abject terror. “Please. I have to get back. I’ve never been away. I have to get back.” She begged. She could feel tears gathering in her eyes, unbidden. 

“You need to calm down. You're going to hurt yourself.” Seeker urged. They had rightfully treated her as a potential enemy but it was clear now that she was not. There was no faking that level of fear. 

She didn’t seem to hear her, continuing her mantra under her breath this time. The moment she realized the woman couldn’t, or wouldn’t, help, what little remained of her logical thinking returned to solving the problem at hand. 

Her skin was red and raw around the cuffs. And yet, she still tried to wriggle free. They both knew that she didn't have a chance of doing so. But much like a trapped animal, logic was not the first thought. Survival was.

The red-haired woman returned with a man. Tall, stocky build, blonde hair and a pronounced scar on his upper lip. She looked up at the newcomer, pleading and raising her hands as much as she could in supplication. “I need to get back to my ship.” She begged. 

“Why?” He asked simply. 

“I've never been gone. I need to get back. I need to get back!” She cried. She saw him wince at the tone in her voice. She hoped the desperation in it would sway him.

“It's nearly the only thing she’s said since she woke up.” Seeker told him. 

The young woman had gone back to her mantra. Although she was no longer struggling against her bonds, she was clearly retreating into herself. The man, Cullen, feared it wasn’t long before she was catatonic. She would be no good to them in that state. 

“She's clearly not going to answer your questions. I don't know if she even can at this point.” He sighed and shook his head. “Okay. I'll escort her back. We'll see if she can answer some questions when she's calmed down.” 

He knelt to release the cuffs from the floor. He took her arm gently and helped her stand. Although he should have been, he wasn't prepared for her to suddenly spring into action. She bent low and slammed her shoulder into his stomach. He gasped for air as he fell back on his ass. 

The door was stupidly still open from his arrival, allowing her to run out. There was only one hallway and only one of its directions led up. She took it, opening the door at the top and bursting into a large, main room. Tall wooden doors, decorated with ornate iron caught her attention. 

She ran to them, pushing free. She could hear somebody shouting behind her to catch her. But everybody was too surprised to react. By the time they got their wits about them, she was already gone. 

Immediately, she saw  _ the Herald _ . She had to get there. She couldn’t breathe. So much space and everything was too soft. A clear path led down through the town. She didn’t even look behind her. She didn’t care who was behind her, or even in front of her. Her true goal wasn’t escape. It was simply, and only, to get to  _ the Herald _ . 

She could hear someone running behind her. They weren’t catching up fast enough. The town disappeared around her and nothing but open field kept her from her goal; the lowering ramp.

It didn’t even fully descend before it started to close again. Ship. Safety. Just before it got too high she jumped onto it, rolling out of view. 

Safety.

\-----

Cullen jumped as far as he could but was still short a mere few inches of catching the ramp. “Maker’s breath!” He gasped out, bending and resting his hands on his knees. He glanced behind him and saw Cassandra put her hands on her hips. 

“I can't believe you let her get away.” She sounded disgusted. Cullen noticed that her accent got thicker when she was angry. 

Cullen stood and ran a hand through his hair. “Neither can I. It was a stupid mistake.”

“Do you think she could take off and fly the ship on her own. Or, Maker save me,” She gestured harshly at Cullen. “Activate the weapons?” 

“I don't think so. It can’t possibly operate with only one.” He said with a shake of his head though he wasn’t completely sure. 

“Cullen. There was no one on board to open and close that ramp for her. If she is able to do that, I am not willing to hedge my bets on ‘can’t possibly’.” She watched Cullen approach the ramp. It had opened previously when anyone approached, but that was no longer the case. 

“We’ll find a way in.” Cassandra sighed. “But not without assistance. We should return to the Chantry.” 

With a frustrated growl, Cullen turned sharply toward the town and started to walk back, Cassandra’s long gait allowing her to easily match his speed. 

\-----

Jules lay on the ground of the garage, panting with exertion. She hadn't run so fast or so far in a very long time. When she caught her breath, she sat up and examined the cuffs on her wrists which were raw and bloody. Worse, she saw no way out of the restraints. Nothing to be done for them right now. She would be able to figure that out later. 

She headed toward Control. The halls, lifts and rooms along the way were empty. It was made haunting by the lack of engine sounds. Normal for being planetside, but unsettling when you were used to hearing it all the time. It kept nagging her, the lack of noise, itching at the side of her consciousness. 

Control was not only empty, but dark. No lights, no panels, just the observation window. She frowned and walked to a wall. She raised her hand and noticed for the first time that her left palm was glowing green. That was most likely why it tingled. She set her curiosity aside. Another problem that she couldn’t address right now. There was far too much going on in her head to process that.

She raised her right hand. As it neared the wall, a far more familiar blue glow shown faintly from her fingertips. A display appeared on the wall. As she navigated screens, she felt her panic rising again. 

No one else was on board. Nobody. No record of where they'd gone. The last log of the ship's activities were normal. All of  _ the Herald’s _ vehicles and support ships were accounted for. 

So, where was everyone?

She turned and saw the black cat jump onto a console with a ‘brrrup’. For this first time since she woke, some semblance of relief washed over her. “Jasoom, I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you.” She reached out to pet him, but hesitated. She didn’t know what the glowing green mark on her hand was. Would it hurt him? 

The feline didn’t hesitate however, rubbing his head against the back of her hand. She scratched under his chin and she could hear the loud rumble of his purr. It was going to take hours to run through the ships protocols to give her emergency control but before that she would have to get out of the cuffs and make sure the vessel was undamaged.

She immediately headed down to her sanctuary; her workshop. If she stopped long enough to think about her situation she was bound to lose control. Make a list, work on the first item. Think later. 

\-----

Cullen didn’t like the idea of using explosives to gain entrance into  _ the Herald _ . Yet, it had been nearly five hours since their prisoner escaped. So far, the hours had been uneventful and he prayed they would stay that way. He rubbed his temples, wishing away the pain that throbbed in his skull. 

“First Commander. Seeker. I have finished reading the files I received on  _ the Herald _ .” Leliana announced when she entered the room, taking a seat across from where he and Cassandra were discussing options. Varric and Solas were behind her. The dwarf pulled up another chair while the elf simply stood in a far corner. 

“Are we in danger?” Cassandra asked immediately. 

Leliana pursed her lips and shook her head. “No, we are not. Which is fortunate considering the amount of information I have to relay.  _ The Herald _ is quite old and has a very dense history.” 

Cullen frowned. “How old, exactly?” 

“Building of  _ the Herald _ began in 8:36. She was manned and launched in 8:44 and disappeared in 8:55.” Leliana said. 

Varric let out an impressed whistle. “What’s that?” He asked, taking a moment to think. “86 years she’s been Maker knows where?” 

“I couldn’t have been built in 8:36. The technology I saw on that ship is far too advanced.” Cullen argued. 

“Indeed. It was incredibly advanced for it’s time. The program  _ the Herald _ was a part of was launched as an answer to the threat of Orlais. It was modeled after technology that Tevinter was testing at the time, though it was a mix of several highly secret technologies from the entire Thedas galaxy.” She explained. 

“It is never good to align with the Imperium.” Cassandra grumbled. 

“Indeed. Given the horrific circumstances I find it hard to believe that Ferelden participated at all.” Leliana said sadly.

“Horrific circumstances?” Solas asked curiously from the corner. 

“Perhaps I should start at the beginning. Coincidentally, it is the birth of our prisoner, Jules Trevelyan in 8:28. She was born to a lesser noble family of the planet of Ostwick in the Free Marches system. At age seven, she was-” Leliana hesitated. “Well, the records use the word “aquired”. It is unclear if she was given or taken from the family. They aren’t mentioned again. After a rigorous year of testing and training, in 8:36 she was integrated with the skeleton of  _ the Herald _ . Out of a selection class of 14, only she and four other young boys were selected for integration.” 

“Integration?” Cassandra asked. Her tone suggested she knew she would regret asking. 

Leliana took a steadying breath. “Brace yourselves.” She warned. “While the skeleton of  _ the Herald _ was being built, certain augmentations were made to Jules that allowed her to be bonded with the ship’s systems.”

“‘Augmentations were made.’” Cullen repeated. “She’s a person, not a vehicle that needs upgrading.” 

Leliana didn’t comment. “Several of her organs were replaced with bio-engineered ones. Her stomach, liver, heart and lungs to ensure her health. Perhaps most importantly to the experiment was her spine and right eye. Additional upgrades were made to her nervous system and considerable technology was surgically implanted into her right hand. This all took place over the course of ten months, three of which were spent in traction and physical therapy while her spine healed.”

“At age eight?!” Cullen couldn’t help the outburst. 

“It must have been incredibly painful.” Solas commented. 

“To put it mildly.” Leliana commented. “As she healed and grew,  _ the Herald _ continued to be built. Essentially, they grew up together. When she was 16,  _ the Herald _ was completed. A crew of 57 was selected and she launched on the 15th of Wintermarch, 8:44.”

“Just in time for the rebellion.” Varric pointed out. 

“Quite timely indeed.” Leliana agreed. “ _ The Herald _ was set to be decommissioned in 8:55, however she disappeared a mere seven weeks before.”

“Jules would have been less than 30. With all of the...enhancements-” Cullen said the word with obvious distaste. “Her health could not have been the issue. That was at the height of the Tevinter/Qunari war. Hardly an opportune time to lose such a valuable and advanced vessel.” 

“Indeed, her health was not the issue. Her very existence was.” The spymaster clarified. “If you recall, four other boys were selected for the program?” She waited for their nods. “They were also augmented and bonded with ships.  _ The Exalted, the Warden Carinus, the Denerim  _ and _ the Griffon.” _

“Those in charge of the program believed that those bonded with the ships would have no issues assimilating into the crew. Unfortunately that was not the case. They were nicknamed “Fleas” and treated with about as much regard as the parasite they were named after." Leliana's voice was tinged with pity. “It is unfortunate. From what I read these were highly intelligent people that were an integral part of the ships systems and health.”

“Despite the fact that they could restrict access to systems, the human element of the project was still a risk. As most governments can attest, any oppressed group will eventually rise up.  _ The Denerim _ suffered engine failure and after an uncontrolled descent, burned up in the atmosphere of Antiva Prime. It wasn’t until several months later that they determined it hadn’t been an accident.” She continued. The mood in the room was dark and growing steadily more so with each word. 

“ _ The Warden Carinus _ was involved in a skirmish with an Orlesian vessel. The weapons malfunctioned and stopped. The Orlesian ship destroyed it. All hands were lost. That too turned out to be, as they put it, Flea influence. The second incident prompted deeper investigation. They found scant evidence of the abuse the poor souls endured. No one would want to keep anything in official records but some things can’t be hidden completely.” 

“They conducted a study of the other three vessels. The evaluations showed a significant risk. Except for  _ the Herald _ . The report suggests it is because Jules is female though the findings of her treatment noted that she was not physically or emotionally abused. Her crew were simply neglectful and tended to ignore her presence completely. That was why  _ the Herald _ was set to be decommissioned last.” Leliana said with a sigh. 

“And what happens to the person bonded to the ship?” Cassandra asked. 

“It is not known if they could survive separation from the ship. Such options were not explored. They were decommissioned as well. It was determined that for the safety of the people, the entire program had to be wiped out. There was simply too much risk to sensitive information. Such advanced technology could not fall under enemy control.” She explained. 

“They weren’t ‘decommissioned’.” Cullen bit out. “They were murdered. Instead of fixing the problem, re-educating the crew or supporting the people they fused to these vessels, they just murdered them.” He couldn’t believe his government had been a part of this. Desperate times didn’t even justify this. 

_ “The Exalted  _ and  _ the Griffon.” _ Solas began. “They were decommissioned successfully?”

Cassandra shot a glare at the elf. His choice of words, intentional or not, were cold and dehumanizing. 

“ _ The Exalted  _ was the only one. The man bonded with  _ the Griffon _ took his own life. The vessel itself was later decommissioned.” She said it quietly. Everyone seemed to be having a hard time taking in this morbid information. 

Cullen ran a hand through his hair, fisting it in the back until pain bit at his scalp. “Maker’s breath. That is...madness. Reprehensible madness.” 

“Is there more?” Cassandra asked, standing and pacing a few steps. 

“Nothing that cannot be reviewed at a later point.” Leliana assured her. They were all glad for this briefing to be over. 

“Now that we have this information, we can make an informed decision as to our next actions.” Solas said, stepping closer to the table. 

“I don’t see how we can gain access without explosives. A torch simply won’t make it through the hull.” Cullen sighed. 

“Or,” Varric said with a shrug. “We could ask her to let us in.” All eyes turned to the dwarf. “You all really didn’t think of that?”

“No.” Cassandra said sharply. She was clearly upset that she, or anyone else, hadn’t come up with that idea sooner. 

“Well, you catch more flies with honey.” Varric grinned. 

\-----

Jules held the tool carefully. It was in an awkward position so that she could use it on the cuffs around her wrists. With the utmost care, she was trying to place it just so…

“My name is First Commander Cullen Rutherford and I am reaching out to Jules aboard  _ the Herald _ .” With a gasp, she dropped the thin tool. It rolled off the workbench and clanged onto the floor. 

“Fuck.” She cursed. She slid off the high stool and bent to crawl under the workbench, unsure of where it had rolled. 

“Please, if you can hear me, respond.” The voice asked. Commander Rutherford was trying to make nice. 

There was no way she was going to respond. She had to get these cuffs off, find her crew and figure out what had happened. If she couldn’t find this tool she would have to rethink her whole strategy to free herself. She’d never seen technology like this and frankly, this was the only thing she’d thought of in her few hours back on the ship. 

“I apologize for how you were treated earlier. You must understand that we have just suffered a catastrophic loss. We had to ensure you were not a threat. We do believe, however, that you can help us and we can help you. If you would just allow us on board, all we wish to do is talk.” The Commander explained. 

She sat down on the floor, leaning back against the inside wall of the bench. Could she trust him? Would she be thrown in that cell again? She knew that if she was, there would be no chance of a second escape. 

“We can explain what happened to your vessel. At least some of it.” That caught her attention. 

Jules spoke aloud, knowing that he would hear her. “Just one of you.” She said. “No weapons.” 

He didn’t respond for a moment. She could imagine that her demand had not been well received. 

“Agreed.” Came the response. “Some of my people are going to be taking a transport up to the Temple of Ashes. We would ask that you let the vessels leave unhindered and unharmed.” 

“Of course.” She returned immediately. Did they think she would do something to it? Of course they did. If they knew her name, then they knew what she was as well. He had apologized for her earlier treatment but they still had no reason to trust her. 

They didn’t know that she couldn’t access those systems at the moment anyway, but that was probably for the best. The less they knew about her abilities, the better. 

“Where should I meet you?” He asked. 

“Garage entrance. Remember, no weapons and no one else.” She reminded him. 

\-----

As he walked to  _ the Herald _ , he was able to really get a good look at Jules. She waited on the ramp, still well within the ship. She was fairly tall, though he still had a half a foot on her. She was wearing a black jumpsuit, the top unipped and the arms tied around her waist. The undershirt was loose but she seemed to have a lithe, slim build. Her hair was a deep copper blond, pulled up into a pony-tail that looked like it had been slept in for a few days. Or decades.

He approached cautiously holding out his hands to show that he was no threat. As he approached he was able to see for himself the most noticeable of her ‘augmentations’. Her left eye was a warm, muted green while the right was a cold grey. 

“Would you like me to take those off?” Cullen offered, looking down at the cuffs. She hesitated, clearly unsure. She had the look of an animal who could bolt as any moment. 

Wordlessly, she extended her arms toward him. Palms up. He'd been told about her palm and the mark that matched the Breach. It was surprising to see in person. He pressed a thumb to the pad between the two cuffs and the hydraulics hissed, releasing the pressure that kept them so tightly closed. 

They unlocked from her wrists and she pulled them away quickly, as if she was afraid they might snap closed again. He watched as she rubbed her wrists tenderly. He noticed with a stab of guilt that there was dried blood on her skin. 

“Thank you.” She said softly. He noticed that she hadn’t made eye contact with him. “Before we talk, would you let me tend your wrists?” He asked gently. “I don’t want them to get infected. 

She swallowed hard and nodded. He hoped she wasn’t starting to regret her decision to let him on board. “This way.” She whispered. Wordlessly, she turned and wound her way between the various vehicles secured to the garage floor. Unlike his own boot falls, her steps were incredibly quiet, even over the metal grating of the stairs. 

She led him deep into the center of the ship to white doors marked MEDICAL. She touched her hand on the panel and the doors slid open noiselessly. She opened a cabinet pulled out a red box with a white cross on the top and opened it while Cullen washed his hands. 

He laid out a sterile pad and gathered what he would need, laying it out. He soaked gauze in antiseptic and reached for her wrist. He held it gently and she was amazed at how light his touch was, how gentle his ministrations were. 

He cleaned the dried blood, wiping delicately at the red, raw skin. She didn’t make a noise and was completely still through the whole thing. He was wrapping the last bandage around her other wrist when she surprised him by speaking up. 

“Now that my hands are free I need to check on the state of the engines. If it’s acceptable to you, you can tell me what you know while I do.” She proposed. 

She dropped her hands to her side and watched him clean up. “That sounds fine.” He assured her. He gestured toward the door. “After you.” 

She led him to the rear of the ship and through massive bulkhead doors marked ENGINE 3 & 4 PORT SIDE. She untied the arms of the jumpsuit and pulled it on, zipping it completely up. She seemed more at ease here. “You know what happened to  _ the Herald _ ?” She asked, taking up a toolbox. 

Cullen didn’t answer. He was still in awe at the size of the turbines and other machinery in the massive room. He followed her slowly, taking it all in. Engines were much smaller now, but not necessarily more powerful. They were an engineering marvel and the knowledge required to maintain them alone would have to be extensive.

“Commander?” She spoke up slightly, drawing him from his daze. 

“Oh, yes.” He shook himself off. He followed her down the side of the massive engine. She was re-doing her pony-tail, reading stats displayed on yet another panel. He cleared his throat. “ _ The Herald _ went missing in 8:55, in the Vimmark belt of the Free Marches system.”

She bent to sift through the tools in her box, selected one and walked back toward him. She started to unscrew a casing as he continued. “We aren’t sure how you ended up here in the Ferelden system.” He explained. “Or why. But your appearance with the Breach can’t be a coincidence.” 

“What year is it now?” She asked, bending slightly to peer into the exposed mechanics. 

“9:41. Well into the Dragon age.” He was hesitant to tell her. The tool slipped from her hand and clanked onto the floor by her feet. 

“The Blessed age is over?” Her voice was quiet, disbelief clear. Cullen wasn’t sure how he would react to such news, but he knew that she was taking it better than that. “86 years?” Her voice was shaking. 

“And a half. You disappeared in Wintermarch, it’s now Bloomingtide.” Immediately, he chastised himself for adding that information. It wasn’t helpful right now. 

Jules rested her forehead against the cold metal, letting it ground her. She could feel herself spiraling back into panic. “Do you know what happened to the crew?” She asked quietly, willing her voice not to shake. 

“No. They were all aboard and accounted for when you left for the Vimmark Belt.” He said quietly. “Are you-” He shouldn’t have started the question. “Are you alright?” 

She whispered something but he couldn’t hear it. She cleared her throat and raised her voice slightly. “Fine. I just-I need to concentrate.”

He nodded. “Is there anything I can do to help?” 

She lifted her head from the turbine and glanced up at him for the briefest moment. “No one has ever offered to help me before.” 

“It’s a new age.” He said, trying to bring some positivity to this bleak day. 

“Do you know your basic tools?” She asked, glancing down at her toolbox. He nodded, but she didn’t seem to notice it. 

“I do.” He said, walking toward her. 

“It would be helpful if I didn’t have to bend down to get the tools I need.” She said shyly. He realized she probably wasn’t used to giving direction. 

He sat down beside the tool box, leaning back against the massive bulk of the engine. “Your wish is my command.” He said with a gentle smile. 

He knew that time was of the utmost importance but they needed her level headed and in command if they were to use  _ the Herald _ . 

They worked in relative silence for nearly a half hour. Finally, he couldn’t keep quiet any longer.

“How does everything look?” He asked her curiously.

“Like I worked on it all yesterday. There are no signs of neglect anywhere. There’s not a thing wrong with them. They’re just sleeping right now.” He was surprised at the drastic change in her confidence when she spoke of the ship. It was rather endearing, as if she spoke of a beloved pet. 

The Commander nodded. “Well, that's something anyway.” He said with a slight smile. 

“Did your friend depart already?” She asked, stuffing the tool into one of her jumpsuit pockets. He’d nearly forgotten about their request for her to leave the transports alone.

“Yes. She had to head down to the shuttle hanger with two others. We need to get up to the Temple and determine what happened.” He explained. “We were hoping you could help us, actually.” He broached carefully. 

As if on cue, his comm chirped softly and she recognized Cassandra’s accent. 

“To anybody available near the valley, we need reinforcements. Now! A rift has opened and we're under attack. Pinned down. We can’t get to the hangers!” They could hear the sounds of battle in the background and the horrible screeching of demons. 

“I need to go.” He said immediately. 

“Wait. Do you have a vehicle?” He shook his head grimly. Walking, in retrospect, was a terrible idea. “How far is the valley?” She asked, walking to a large panel on the wall. It brightened at her approach and a map of the terrain around Haven appeared. He didn’t question how she got such up to date information, he just pointed to the location. 

“You’ll never get there in time if you have to run back to Haven first. It’s in the opposite direction.” He was surprised to find her staring into his eyes. She’d hardly made eye contact the entire day. It was like she was trying to see something in his eyes, or perhaps his soul. Whatever she was looking for, she found. “Follow me.” She sprinted toward the engine room doors.

He found it difficult to keep up. Maker, she was quick. No wonder he and Cassandra hadn’t been able to catch up to her. She took a sharp right turn and he hesitated. “The garage is to the left!” He called after her.

She stopped and turned. “I know! Please, trust me!” Jules pleaded. She saw the hesitation in his eyes, but it was only momentary. 

She led him to a large, heavy bulkhead. ARMORY was painted on it. She laid her hand on the glowing panel by the door but it made a dull thumping noise back at her, the panel dimming and then returning again. 

She immediately took a few steps back down the hallway, bent and pulled a metal panel off the wall near the floor. She tossed it aside and stuck her hand inside. “Cover your ears.” She said, her voice flat and emotionless. 

“Why?” He asked, though he raised his hands anyway. 

“I’m going to make her think we’ve been boarded by hostiles. When her security protocols are in place I have access to more places.” She said pulling out a bundle of wires and quickly sifting them through her fingers. They were impossibly small and though there were dozens of colors and even patterns, many of them were repeated. There must have been hundreds in the wrist sized bundle. He noticed as she touched them, dim blue points of light glowed from the fingertips of her right hand. 

She separated one, then after a moment of searching, two more. With a small tool from one of the pockets of her jumpsuit, she cut the two in half and cross connected them. Immediately, a klaxon blared through the hallway. She’d been right. It was incredibly loud. A red light flashed in intervals along the ceiling of the hallway. He covered his ears and watched as she ripped the other single wire out completely. It resisted at first but she wrapped it around one hand and gave it a vicious yank.

The alarm stopped but the red lights continued to strobe. She dropped the wire on the floor and sprinted back to the armory door and touched the panel. “Take what you need. Quickly!” She told him, standing aside as the door slid open with the occasional scrape of metal against metal. 

He wasted no time selecting a pistol, strapping the holster around his waist and thigh. He snatched up a hydrogen blade and met her back at the door. Without word, she started sprinting toward the garage and he once again struggled to keep up. Luckily he was confident he could get back himself if she got too far ahead. 

She shot through the door into the garage, grabbing the frame to swing herself around quickly. Her hand slapped on a panel and the ramp started to descend. “Take vehicle two!” She made it to the vehicle far before he did and released the cables securing it to the deck. They wound back into the floor. 

He looked inside. “I don't know how to drive this.” The Commander's words made her heart sink. She stared at him, frozen. She would have to leave the ship, she realized. Then, once again, her steely determination took over. 

“Fine.” She said simply, climbing behind the wheel. 

He knew he was wrong to let her do this. She didn’t know him, any of them, beyond her experience in the Chantry cell. He had seen her fear, her utter terror. Worse, he knew that horror and still he got in the other side and pulled the door closed.

The vehicle seemed to respond to her thoughts alone. The engine rumbled to life and then purred contentedly while displays lit up in the cabin. Jules was pulling two straps over her shoulders, buckling them into the strap she’d secured over her lap. 

“Buckle.” She reminded absently. 

“We need to head south of the town.” He said, securing himself to the seat. “There's a route through the forest.” She slammed the vehicle into gear and jerked forward, shooting out of  _ the Herald _ and onto the snowy terrain. 

She took a sharp turn away from the town and found the path he was indicating. Cullen wished that he had something to hold onto. She seemed to be a competent driver, but the breakneck speed had him concerned. 

He questioned, perhaps belatedly, how she had learned to drive so well never having left  _ the Herald _ . He glanced over but her face was determined, both hands on the wheel of the vehicle. She wasn’t paying any attention to him, her entire focus on moving forward.

The road ran along a ridge overlooking the valley. “That must be it.” Cullen said. “Outside your window.” She chanced a look and saw green crackling mass in air above the valley. It was nearly at eye level. Crystalline formations jutted out, exploding and returning into itself. 

She could see the fight down below against creatures she couldn't imagine in her worst nightmares. They still had to make it to the far side of the valley and down the waterworn slope. A shift of her foot and hand pushed the vehicle even faster. 

“The turn is just ahead.” Cullen said. He waited a moment and then glanced over at her. “You need to slow down, there’s a turn up ahead.” He warned, trying to hide his alarm. 

Still, she didn’t respond. Not even a look in his direction. Her hand moved between them, grabbing a horizontal lever. He didn’t know what it did, but he knew he was going to wish he had something to hold onto. 

“Maker’s breath.” He let out, reaching behind him to grab the headrest of his seat, his other arm bracing against the dash in front of him.

When he was sure they were going to die, she spun the wheel and a mere moment later, lifted the lever. He was thrown against the side of the vehicle and for a time, it seemed like the driver’s side wheels were going to lift off the ground. If that happened, the roof of the vehicle would catch on the rock wall and it would all be over. 

Cullen had always believed that if you couldn’t trust someone completely, you couldn’t trust them at all. The only thing that he trusted in that moment was that his death would be instantaneous if that happened. But if she made this turn, he would absolutely trust her with his life for however long that would be.

She slammed the lever back down and cut the wheel. Amazingly, the vehicle straightened out and regained it’s momentum. They tore down the deep embankment and she belatedly realized that the valley floor was a frozen lake when the back end started to slide to the right. She hit a button on the dash in front of her and the vehicle corrected itself with a jerk. He could hear ice crunching and grinding under the wheels now.

She slowed when she saw a bald elf with a staff. Energy just seemed to erupt from both his hand and his weapon. As they drew closer, she saw the dark-haired woman again, hydrogen blade cutting at a hunched demon that lumbered toward her, sending a screech through the air that she could hear in the cabin, even from a distance. 

The vehicle skittered to a stop, throwing up ice. Cullen threw open the door and was gone. Jules gripped the steering wheel and focused on not hyperventilating. She didn’t plan on getting out of the vehicle. She just wanted him to be able to help his friends. She could feel her hands shaking so she gripped the steering wheel tighter, until her knuckles turned white. 

Jules peeled her eyes from the dash and looked at the chaos in front of her. The dark haired woman she remembered as the Seeker, was facing away from her, engaging one demon. She glanced over and saw another approaching from behind. It’s odd, gangly gait made her shiver with disgust. She managed to release her iron grip on the wheel and laid on the horn. 

The sound echoed through the frozen valley, but the woman wasn’t able to disengage from her current enemy. The demon drew closer and closer, the entirety of its focus on the woman. Unaware, or perhaps uncaring that the opposite door was still open, she released the clutch and slammed down the accelerator. The tire studs had a hard time finding their grip, but when they did she shot forward. 

She managed to gain a considerable amount of speed and momentum in a very short distance. The Seeker dispatched her enemy and spun. She didn’t see the demon that was nearly upon her, she only saw Jules hurtling toward her. There was no time to move or react, but she didn’t have to. She wasn’t the vehicles target.

She slammed into the demon and heard it roll over the roof of the vehicle. It landed in a heap near the stunned Seeker, screeching and scrambling to stand. She finished it quickly and sprinted to the still open passenger side door. 

Jules gaze was straight ahead and when the Seeker spoke she turned her head, startled. “Thank you.” The Seeker said with an appreciative nod. Her voice was grave and apologetic. There was weight behind her words and Jules was sure she meant it. She nodded in response and swallowed hard. 

Another man descended from his perch on higher ground. He had a weapon that she’d never seen before. Large and heavy, much like the dwarf himself. That must have been where the long bolts of light had come from. They’d peppered the field from above and she assumed it was another demon or mage. 

She could hear the sounds of battle and knew that she could be in danger and yet none of the demons had seemed to notice her yet in the still running vehicle. 

“Where's the girl?” The bald elf cried, getting her attention. Maker, please don’t be talking about her. “I believe she is the key. The mark on her hand!” 

He  _ was _ talking about her! She could feel her heart rate spike. She nearly screamed in surprise when he appeared at the passenger door. 

“Quickly! You must close the rift before more demons come through!” He said urgently, looking back at the rift. “Now!” He shouted and she flinched, pushing back into the safety of the seat. 

“Solas!” She heard the Seeker’s voice behind the elf, reprimanding. She appeared at his side and looked into the vehicle. 

“Please, we need your help Jules.” She implored. “Please.” She said again. The elf continued to glance back at the rift impatiently. “You’re the only one who can help us. You can save lives.” 

Jules took a deep, staggering breath to steel herself against the fear of doing what terrified her the most. And then she did it. The vehicle at least felt like a small, detached piece of  _ the Herald.  _

Before she could change her mind, she slid open the door and stepped out. The elf met her at the front of the vehicle and reached for her wrist. She didn’t even have time to shrink away from him. His hand wrapped around her raw wrist and he thrust it into the air toward the rift. 

She didn’t even have time for her thoughts to turn to panic. The tingling in her hand shot up her arm all the way to her shoulder. It was almost painful, like she’d been sleeping on it for far too long. Pins and needles stabbed at her nerves. 

At first, nothing happened. Then, green light shot from her palm. The rift crackled loudly, but was quickly drowned out by a low tone that grew rapidly in pitch. The crystalline formations of the rift began to cycle faster and faster. The formation shrank in on itself until it imploded with a wave of concussive energy. The elf released her hand in time for her to stumble back with the force of the blast, allowing her to keep her balance. 

She stared down at her hand in wonder. She glanced back up and saw all four fighters staring back at her. The elf had a critical gaze that made her uncomfortable, twisting her stomach.

The bald elf watched her critically, in a way that made her stomach twist with discomfort. Unfortunately, it was also very familiar to her. He’d found a new tool. Or worse, she worried. A new weapon. 

She walked slowly back to the vehicle. The sense of calm that washed over her was surprising. She sat back down behind the wheel and sighed. She simply had nothing left to give. She was empty. She could have died but she simply didn’t care. 

Cullen leaned into the vehicle. “May I ride back with you?” He asked gently. She nodded and he slipped in, sliding the door closed. She closed hers as well and shifted the vehicle into reverse. She turned it and headed back toward the slope that led up to the ridge path. 

She could see out of her peripheral vision that Cullen kept glancing at her, clearly concerned. She didn't have the capacity to entertain any sort of conversation. When she saw  _ the Herald _ on the horizon, she couldn't help but press further down on the accelerator. 

Cullen laid a hand on the dashboard as her speed accelerated, but he didn't say anything. She took the ramp so quickly the suspension bounced and he was glad he remembered the belts. The vehicle halted with a squeal of tires against metal. 

Once the vehicle engine turned off she took in a great, shaking sob. She rested her forehead on the steering wheel, willing her composure to stay. The adrenaline of the fight had faded and with it, her sense of numb calm.

Cullen sat awkwardly in the passenger seat. He wanted to reach out to her, to comfort her, to do anything. He knew what a panic attack looked like and what it felt like but he also knew there was very little that you could do for it. 

“You saved a lot of lives today. The lives of my friends and people that I care about. I'm sorry that I had to ask you to leave  _ the Herald _ .” He hoped that his genuine appreciation would help, even a small amount. 

She nodded absently but he wasn’t so sure she actually  _ heard _ what he said. She sat silently, staring out at the settlement for a long few moments. “You should go.” She said softly and drew in a shuddering breath. 

He knew that she wanted to be alone but he also knew that the Breach was still active over the Temple of Ashes and it needed to be addressed immediately. She had mentioned that it would take several hours for her to gain complete control of  _ the Herald _ . 

Despite the dire consequences, he couldn't bring himself to ask her to take a different ship. If she could get  _ the Herald _ going they could wait a few more hours. Her vessel could be a valuable asset. They had to remember that she wasn’t an asset. She was a person. A person they had already asked so much of and he could see the toll it was taking on her. 

Quite suddenly, she released the steering wheel, throwing open the door. She scrambled out stumbling as her foot caught on the edge. She ran to the stairway, taking the steps two at a time. 

Concerned, Cullen threw open his door to follow her. But it was already too late. She was too fast. She shot through the door and it slid closed behind her. When he approached, it didn't open. 

Despite the thick metal, he could hear her wracking sobs on the other side of the door. He wasn't sure what to do. He could relate to the panic attack but not her reason for it. No one could understand the position she was in. He wondered if there was somebody else that he could get to talk to her. 

He briefly considered Leliana, but given her earlier interaction with Jules, decided against it. Perhaps Josephine. She was sweet and might be able to talk to her. Instead, he sat down and rested his back against the door. He could hear her near hysterical crying. The helplessness he felt was overwhelming. He activated his comms, using the frequency that he'd contacted her on before. 

“Jules,” He said gently. “I'm so sorry and I just want you to know you're not alone. I'll stay here as long as you need me to.” There was no answer but he didn't expect or need one. He drew up his legs, resting his arms on his knees and clasping his hands together. He laid his head back against the door and closed his eyes. 

How would this possibly work? How can he possibly ask her to do more than she'd already done after all that she'd been through. Nearly a century missing. Everyone she knew gone. The state of the galaxy completely different. And now she was expected to confront a giant hole in the sky over the planet of Haven. It was too much to ask anyone and yet he knew that he had to. 

The whole system of Ferelden, and perhaps those beyond, was at stake. The Maker had delivered  _ the Herald _ when they were most in need with a woman at the helm, much like Andraste herself. He had to believe that the Maker would continue to shine down on them and that Andraste would continue to strengthen Jules. She was capable of so much. It wouldn’t be easy, but it was necessary. 

He had one final thing to say before he allowed her to process the day’s events in silence. “I promise, Jules, you will never be alone in this.” 


	2. The Temple's Vulture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The Herald_ is hers. She can't even delve into what that means to her yet. She's needed to seal the Breach. She needs to leave _the Herald_. Again. 
> 
> But it's okay. Jules is ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Jules desperately does not want to help but does anyway.

Jules sobbed until she had no energy left inside of her. No more tears fell so all she was left with was painful hiccuping. She wiped her cheeks with the arm of her jumpsuit. She stood up off of the floor and composed herself with a few deep breaths.

“Commander? Are you still there?” She asked tentatively, hoping her voice wouldn’t break too much.

“Yes.” The response was immediate. 

“Why?” She asked, resting her forehead against the door, knowing that he was directly on the other side. “What do you need of me? What more could you possibly want?” 

“I don't want to have to ask you for anything further. But I need to.” To his credit, he seemed genuine. He really didn’t want to. “You saw the Breach over the moon. We need to see if you can close it the same way you did the rift in the valley. I know it's a lot to ask and I know that I have no right to ask it of you, but I must.” 

The door slid open and she found him standing in front of her. She looked up slightly and met his eyes. “What happens if I don't?” She asked him. 

He shook his head slightly. “I can't tell you with any certainty, but I'm positive that people will die. Lots of people.” 

“I can't leave the ship again.” She said, her voice breaking as if she might start crying once more. 

“You said that you could gain control of the ship?” He asked. She nodded, looking down at her hands. She was picking at her short nails. 

“I can, but it will take quite a few hours and I won't be able to do it alone.” She sounded ashamed and maybe a little scared. As if he might be angry with her. 

“You can fly the ship by yourself, yes?” He couldn’t remember if she’d mentioned that before, but he hoped she could. 

“Theoretically I can, but I've never actually done it.” She admitted. “It was put in place in case of a crew emergency. Sickness, boarding that sort of thing, but it was never expected that it would actually need to be done. I haven’t run that drill since before  _ the Herald _ launched.” She explained. 

“If there's anything I can do to help, just tell me where you need me.” He could tell that she was a little surprised by his offer. She opened her mouth, then hesitated and closed it again with a shake of her head. “No, what?” He said quickly. 

“I'm really hungry.” She said shyly. “Could you have somebody bring me something to eat?”

“Of course!” He said quickly as if he was embarrassed he hadn’t thought about it first. Nearly a whole day had passed since the Herald landed outside of the settlement. Much had happened since then. She must be absolutely starving! 

He activated his comms again and requested food be brought up for both of them. “Tell me what else you need.” He said. 

“I can handle the mechanics and the programming but I'll need a pilot to actually fly her.” Jules explained. 

“Unfortunately most of our pilots are off-world right now, due to the Breach. However, Cassandra is a confident pilot. The technology may be old but she's rather smart, so I'm sure she can figure it out.” Cullen assured her. 

“The Seeker?” Jules asked, trying to get all the faces straight in her head. Cullen nodded. “You'd best send for her then too. Do you remember your way to Control?”

“I do.” He confirmed. 

“Wait here for your friend and then meet me there. I'll deactivate the alarms and get everything started.” It was the most docile order he’d ever been given. She wasn’t used to telling people what to do.

He was hesitant to leave her alone, not because he didn't trust her but because of her fragile state of mind. But, he nodded anyway. “I'll be there shortly with a pilot and some food.” He promised. 

With an almost imperceptible nod of her head, she turned and strode off down the corridor. 

\-----

It was only a quarter of an hour later when the Commander and Seeker entered Control. He offered her a container and when she lifted the lid the most glorious smell wafted from it. A slab of meat with mashed potatoes and roasted vegetables awaited her. She took the offered fork and dug in, sitting down at the nearest console.

“I'm sorry.” She muttered in between bites. “I'm so hungry.” 

“Think nothing of it. We understand.” The Seeker assured her. “There have been many a day when we've only had one hasty meal after a full day of battle.” 

Jules nodded and kept eating. She was finished long before Cullen. Setting aside the container and taking a long drink of water she prepared to get to work. 

“What exactly is it that you have to do?” Cassandra asked curiously. 

“There are multiple safety redundancies, many of which I'm not normally able to access. However, in the event of an extreme emergency, such as the crew disappearing-” She said, almost bitterly. “I can work my way through the emergency protocols to grant myself access to all of her systems.” 

Cassandra knew why she didn't have access now and it made her heart break. 

“First, the system has to scan as far as it can to determine if any of the crew listed on the manifest are within range.” Jules explained. She was already starting to work and Cullen was impressed with her ability to multitask. 

“And how far is that range?” Cullen asked. 

“It isn’t a complicated or detailed scan. It's just looking for the genetic signatures of the crew. Theoretically, that could reach as far as the Orlais system and parts of the Free Marches and Antiva. 

Cullen raised a brow in surprise. “That's actually pretty impressive for a ship this old.” 

“A detailed scan would have significantly less range. Either way, I'd imagine that we're both pretty outdated now.” Jules said. She continued looking down at the panel, fingers moving over it deftly. Cullen got the impression that she could do this in her sleep. 

Cassandra started to walk around Control, trying to determine the purpose of each station. Not as much as you would think.” She assured Jules. “The ship was quite advanced for its time and is surprisingly not far behind now.”

“The helm is just there.” Jules said, indicating another console, in front of the viewing screen. It was a half-hexagon, a large yoke joystick protruding from the center console. “Do you think you'll be able to fly her?” Jules asked. “I've turned the console on for you.” 

Cassandra approached the indicated column and sat down. She attempted to work through the controls, however, nothing responded when she touched it. 

“I have to add you to the system first.” Jules explained. “I should be able to do so in a couple of hours or so. You can get familiar with the controls when I’m finishing my work.”

“Well, at first glance I think I'll be able to figure this out.” Cassandra said confidently. 

“I am curious about one thing,” Cullen said. Jules stopped what she was doing and glanced in his direction, although she didn't make eye contact. “There was a cat with you when we found you.” Jules' eyes snapped to his, panicking. 

“Please don't take him,'' She pleaded. He raised his hands soothingly. 

“Nobody will take anything from you.” He promised. “Is he yours?” 

“He doesn't belong to me.” Jules explained. “But he's my friend. His name is Jasoom.” 

“How long has he been with you?” Cassandra asked. Now that she had been assured that the cat was safe, she felt more comfortable talking about him. 

Jules’ brows furrowed as she thought. “I’m not sure exactly when he found me, but I remember he was there when they started the surgeries. I think he was there the first time that I woke up. I don't know who brought him to me, but I'm glad that they did. I wasn’t allowed to move for what felt like forever. He would sit with me and just purr. Gave me someone to talk to.” 

“He's quite good at hiding.” Cullen commented. 

Jules nodded with the barest of smiles. “He can disappear if he wants to.” 

“Yes, well cats are quite good at that.” Cullen said with a chuckle. 

“No. He actually disappears.” Jules said, a bit timid in her correction. “It's like he disappears into a wisp of smoke” She explained. “But he's always there when I need him.” 

Cullen and Cassandra exchanged glances. 

That was definitely something they were going to have to look into, just to ensure that it wouldn't be a threat. Perhaps Solas would be able to identify an animal that appeared to be a normal house cat but could disappear into thin air. 

As if he had been listening in, the black cat appeared. He walked into the Control center, in typical feline fashion, like he owned the place. He padded silently over to Jules and jumped up onto the console she was working at. 

“He must have finally decided that he liked you both.” Jules said with a smile. She tapped her shoulder and Jasoom jumped up, draping his long form around the back of her neck. 

Cassandra felt slightly uncomfortable as she looked at the cat. He stared back at her with deep, topaz blue eyes. She felt as if he could see into her soul. “He's quite stunning.” She commented, hiding her discomfort. 

Jules absently brushed her cheek against one of Jasoom’s paws with a soft smile. The cat’s eyes left Cassandra and he twisted slightly to rub the top of his head against her shoulder. 

They fell into relative silence, though it wasn’t awkward. Cullen and Cassandra would occasionally exchange a few words, but they mostly let Jules work in peace. The better part of two hours went by before she spoke up again.

“Commander, I’m almost ready to start adding crew to the database. Besides yourself and the Seeker, is there anyone else who will be accompanying us on  _ the Herald _ ? I will need to know in what capacity and would-well-” She hesitated, her confidence faltering. 

“Go ahead.” Cullen prompted. 

“I would like to meet them first. I know your trust in them should be enough but I-” She was speaking quickly, getting it all out in a rush. 

“It’s alright.” Cullen said gently. 

“-I just want to...It’s okay?” She asked, surprised. 

“Of course.  _ The Herald  _ is your home and does not belong to us.” Cullen thought it was a perfectly reasonable request. 

“As far as we are concerned, you are helping us. In fact, we could not do anything without you. You are the First Commander of  _ the Herald _ .” Cassandra added. 

“I’m not!” She said quickly, startling Jasoom. She almost immediately calmed, however. “I’m not the First Commander.” Jules said, far quieter than her outburst a moment before. “I’m just a Flea.”

“Regardless, she is yours.” Cullen reiterated. “Unless you give us a reason to, we will trust you and your control over  _ the Herald _ . We simply ask for your assistance.” 

“And my assistance-” Jules started, Her shoulder was moving up and down every few seconds and her head tilted toward it slightly, crowding the cat who didn’t seem to care in the slightest. She was looking down at the roiling green mark on her palm “It requires me to leave  _ the Herald _ again. Doesn’t it?”

”It does.” Cullen confirmed reluctantly. 

She let out a sharp breath and closed her eyes. “I don’t even know anything about self-defense, letting alone attacking someone-something.” She corrected the last quickly. She opened her eyes and gestured around the room. “I know this. This is all I’ve ever learned or been allowed to learn. I’ve never even held a pistol.” Jasoom made a show of stretching, using the motion to slam his head against her chin, purring loudly. 

Her shoulder stopped moving. Unconsciously she reached up absently to scratch under his chin as she looked up at them. “I will die.” She said simply. 

“You won’t.” Both the Seeker and the Commander said at the same time with the same level of vehemence. 

“We won’t allow that to happen.” Cassandra assured her. “We  _ will _ protect you.” 

Jules nodded slowly and Cullen couldn’t tell by her facial expression if she believed them or not. “Let’s get your friends. We need to register their, and your, genetic signatures so that I can grant you access to some of the systems and areas of the ship.”

“Cassandra, if you could go meet Varric and Solas in the garage, I’d like to speak to Jules about something.” Cullen requested. The Seeker nodded sharply and left them alone in Control. 

“Are you okay?” Cullen asked when they were alone. “Are you injured?” He asked, touching his own shoulder to indicate what he meant. 

Her cheeks flushed brightly. She pulled Jasoom off of her shoulders and set him down on the ground. He trotted out the door after Cassandra. “It’s fine. It’s just a….it’s a thing that happens when I’m tired or...anxious.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry I pried.” He apologized. He waved her through the door and then fell into step beside her. They were quiet for a moment and he could tell that she was intensely embarrassed. 

“There was a young man that I went through Templar training with for a time.” He said as they walked. “His name was Deacon. When he got stressed he would close his eyes as tightly as he could. One or twice a minute, sometimes for hours. He said that it was like something was off and that doing that would fix it. He said he had to do it until it felt “right” and he couldn’t ignore the feeling.” 

“I don’t know what it feels like, but I can understand. I didn’t mean to embarrass you, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He explained. 

“It usually isn’t so bad. Most people don’t even care enough to notice.” She sounded apologetic. She looked up at him briefly. “Thank you for addressing it after Cassandra left.” 

“Of course. Please let one of us know if there’s anything we can do to help.” He offered. 

“I will.” She said though he didn’t really believe that she would.

\-----

“I never got to thank you for saving our asses in the valley.” The dwarf said as she went through the motions of adding him as a crew member in  _ the Herald’s _ databanks. “My name is Varric.” 

She was surprised that he was addressing her. “You’re welcome.” She said absently. 

“Seems you’re going to save our asses again.” He said with a snort of laughter. 

“That’s the idea.” She said with a nod. 

“You don’t sound very convinced.” He pointed out. 

“I don’t know for sure, but I feel like the life expectancy of someone who doesn’t know a thing about fighting is pretty low in a battle, especially against demons.” Even though she felt oddly at ease with the man she’d just met, she sounded a little snarky which was quite out of character for her. 

“Nah, Seeker and Curly won’t let that happen. Neither will I.” He said it so dismissively that she almost believed him. The words were casual like it was a given. 

She could only nod though. “You’re done.” She informed him. “It’s really just the four of you?” 

“Nightingale will be waiting with some of our soldiers.” He said, sliding off the table in the medical lab. “We don’t know what’s up there, so we’re pulling out all the stops.” 

“Who is we, exactly?” She asked curiously. “The Ferelden government? Chantry?” 

“Neither. We just kind of are. Just a group of idiots who are trying to keep it all from going to shit.” He chuckled. “Welcome to the dysfunctional family.” 

Jules’ eyes widened slightly at that. She was sure he was just being friendly, but the words pulled at a string in her heart that she didn’t know was there. 

They walked together back to Control where everyone else was waiting. 

“Are you ready?” Cassandra asked. She had been the first to register so that she could familiarize herself with the flight console. 

“Haven’s atmosphere is lighter than most,” Jules advised. “But she’s a heavy girl. You’ll have to be careful of her starboard side. The hanger is larger than the garage and that makes her heavier on that side so she’ll want to roll on you.” 

Cassandra nodded in acknowledgment. 

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.” Varric interrupted holding up his hands. All eyes shifted to him. “This beast-” Jules frowned. “-landed all by itself. Why can’t it take off by itself?”

Before she could answer, the elf spoke up from his quiet spot on the upper landing of the room. “Most emergencies involve going down, not going up.” 

Varric thought about it for a moment and shrugged. “Okay, fair enough.”

“You have full control over the engines, control jets, and maneuvering. I’ll keep an eye on everything else.” Jules said. There was a confidence in her voice that Cullen hadn’t heard before. This she knew. This was her element. 

“Everything else?” Varric asked, his tone suggesting both surprise and concern. 

"Do you know how to do any of it?" Cassandra snapped, annoyed. "Because she does. All of it." 

The dwarf thought about it for a moment and then shrugged. “Alright, good point.” He ceded.

“Are you quite done?” Cassandra asked. Varric raised his hands in defeat and then made the motion of zipping his lips closed. The Seeker’s gaze turned to Jules. “I’m ready.” 

She nodded. “Engines will take less than a minute to start and get to full power. Once they start, ease onto the throttle, less than ten percent, to ensure they don’t stall.”

A low rumble from the rear of the ship started, growing until the entire ship shook. When Cassandra pushed forward almost imperceptibly on the throttle, the vibrations lessened until you could only hear the dull hum of power. 

Everyone in Control was silent, allowing Cassandra to concentrate. With a jolt,  _ the Herald _ lifted off of the ground. The Seeker didn’t apologize, instead focusing on the bank of panels in front of and around her. The town in front of them sunk out of view as  _ the Herald _ started its forward motion. The terrain below started to move faster and sink lower as  _ the Herald _ gained speed and rose toward the atmosphere. 

As Jules had predicted,  _ the Herald _ started to roll to the starboard side. Cassandra corrected immediately.  _ The Herald _ started to rumble and shake as she pushed through the atmosphere. The view out of the portal started to darken and spots of starlight began to show through. 

When the shaking stopped and nothing but the speckled blackness of space surrounded them, Jules let out a breath she didn't realize she’d been holding. She released her clenched fists and her fingers ached as the tension eased out. She could relax now. She was where she belonged again. Not for long, but for now.

Yet, as  _ the Herald _ turned and the moon of Haven came into view, all of the tension and apprehension returned. The Breach swirled lazily over the moon. It wasn’t quite touching the satellite, just hovering like a vulture waiting for a wounded animal to die. A funnel of eerie light, wisps of smoke and shards of debris filtered down to the moon.

The full scope of the devastation of the Temple of Sacred Ashes became clear. It was built against the side of a cliff, a natural tear in the terrain. Most of it appeared to be gone, a giant gash cut into the cliff face as if a giant claw had erupted from the Breach to wreak havoc. 

“Leliana’s forces have already landed and secured the Temple, moving as far as the upper courtyard which is directly below the Breach. If we could borrow a transport to join them, we can end this.” Cassandra commented, looking back at the rest of the small fellowship. “We shouldn’t risk  _ the Herald _ by landing directly. We don’t know how the Breach will react to being closed.”

“Jules,” Cullen got her attention and she turned to look back at him. “You stay with me at all times.” 

“Perhaps she might be safer with myself or Varric,” Solas suggested. “As we can stay on the fringes of the fight. Yourself and the Seeker will be required to stay in the fray to dispatch the demons that will inevitably push through the rift.”

Cullen didn’t look like he cared much for the idea but nodded anyway. 

“Stick with me, Precious.” Varric said with a grin. 

Jules tried to speak, but her throat closed up. She could feel tears burning behind her eyes and willed them to go away. She didn’t want to show weakness. She’d already left  _ the Herald _ twice. She could do this again. She had to. People would die and she was the only one who could help them. It was her duty. 

As she led them down the hanger, she couldn’t help but feel like she was walking to her death. The footfalls of boots against the grating of the stairwells sounded deafening to her ears. Every door they passed through, she wondered if she would ever pass through there again. 

She wanted to take a moment to prepare herself, and if she was honest, to say goodbye to her home. She wanted to trust that she would be protected. And yet, not only did she not know these people but they couldn’t promise something wouldn’t go wrong. That something wouldn’t slip past their defenses.

Cassandra took the helm of the transport and Jules sat in the co-pilot chair. It was like she was watching through someone else’s eyes. She didn’t dare look back at the human, elf, and dwarf sitting alone in the hold of the transport. She simply went through the motions. She knew that Leliana, the red-head, had troops stationed around the Temple but it still felt like it wouldn’t be enough by far. 

The feeling of disembodiment only got worse as her feet hit the desecrated ground around the Temple. Cullen fell into step beside her, gently guiding her through the winding halls to the upper levels of the courtyard. How did she even get here? The last thing she remembered was prepping the transport with Cassandra.

“Now, is the hour of our victory.” A voice came from nowhere and everywhere at once. Her consciousness snapped back to the forefront. The voice was familiar yet she was sure she hadn’t heard it before. The rest of her company glanced around, trying to find the source of the voice. 

“Bring forth the sacrifice.” The deep voice rumbled. She could see the massive rift in the center of the courtyard but as she peered over the battlement wall she couldn’t see a single soul. None living at least. As they searched for a way down to the lower level of the courtyard, Jules noticed red crystalline formations growing on the perimeter of the upper level they explored. 

As if she had asked aloud, Varric slowed near one of the formations. “Red Lyrium. Not a good sign. Don’t touch this, Precious. It’ll drive you insane in the worst sort of way.” 

“Is there a good way to go insane?” Cullen asked. His sword was out but the cutting edge of burning hydrogen wasn’t yet alight. 

“I think you’d be surprised at how freeing and relaxing some forms of insanity can be.” It seemed like Varric had more to say, but the disembodied voice rang out again. 

“Keep the sacrifice still!” The annoyance was clear. This voice was used to being obeyed immediately. 

Another voice rang out, higher-pitched, feminine and filled with fear. “Someone, help me!”

Cassandra halted and gasped, raising her own sword. “Divine Justinia!” She cried. The Seeker looked around frantically for the source of the voice. Jules remembered that both she and the red-haired woman were close to the Divine. 

Solas found a fallen walkway that served as a ramp to the lower level. As she skidded her way down to the courtyard, the mark on her palm started to tingle. A lot. Alarmed, she almost fell down the last few feet. Cullen’s hand shot out and grabbed her arm to steady her. 

Her first instinct was to pull away but his grip was too strong. She found her feet again and he released her. “Are you okay?” 

_ No. _ “Yes.” She said quickly. She hid her palm against her thigh to keep him from noticing that the glow was growing stronger the closer to the rift she got. The moment she entered the courtyard, her own voice rang out, but not from her lips. 

“What’s going on here?” Her voice had an ethereal echo. Her own head snapped up, scanning the eerie green courtyard. 

“That’s your voice!” Cassandra said. Jules heard the accusation and unasked question. 

“Run, while you still can! Warn them!” The Divine ordered, presumably to her. 

“We have an intruder. Kill her. Now!” The deep voice boomed. She knew that it wasn’t speaking of her, but in a way it was. She could feel the anxiety rising. Especially with the dark look Cassandra was giving her. 

“What did you-The most Holy called out to you! How did you-” The Seeker demanded. 

“I don’t remember!” Jules took a few steps back. She wished she could find a hole to hide in. That she could run back to the transport and further to the safety of  _ the Herald _ . 

“But that was  _ your _ voice.” Cassandra countered. 

Jules was relieved when Solas stepped between them. “She may not remember. The Fade bleeds through this rift. The Fade does not operate in both time and memory the way that we do here.” He explained. Her initial reaction to the elf had been apprehension but she was glad for his interference now. 

“We are hearing these glimpses into the past because the rift is closed, but not sealed. It must be reopened so that it can be sealed properly.” He instructed. He turned to look at Jules. “This will inevitably draw attention. Our priority must be to protect Jules so that she can seal the rift.”

“By attention, you mean-” Jules started. 

“Demons.” Solas confirmed, cutting her off. She let out a shaky breath. 

“Hey, Precious. Look at me.” Varric’s voice was like an anchor. The tone was commanding and she found she couldn’t help but obey. “We’re gonna roost over there.” He said, motioning to a pile of rubble in the southeastern corner of the courtyard. “You stick with me and Bianca and we’ll make it through this. Okay?” 

She steeled herself. “Okay.” She looked over at Cullen and Cassandra. Both of their swords were alight, the pure white line of burning hydrogen in place of the sharpened edge. Both warriors looked fierce without a hint of fear. She wished she could summon just a piece of that courage. 

“Are you ready?” Cullen asked. 

“She must be.” Solas cut off. “We have no time to waste.” 

Before she could dive back into her fears, she strode toward the rift. When she lifted her hand, roiling green light covered it, front and back past her wrist. She thrust her hand toward the crystalline formation, as she had in the valley, and like in the valley, a blinding beam of light shot out to connect her to the rift. 

The jagged crystals started to grow and shoot out faster, sharper and darker. The same low tone that had echoed in the valley started here. It bounced off of the cold stone walls surrounding the courtyard and grew rapidly in pitch. 

The feeling of part of herself transferring into the rift stopped. The tone continued to grow and the tingling that had risen to her shoulder started to turn into a burning pain. Now, it felt more like the rift was bleeding back into her. Something was terribly wrong. 

With a booming ripple of energy, her hand was pushed back, like the tension of a rope snapping. The beam of light going from her palm to the rift shifted, shooting off to the eastern side of the courtyard. 

It looked like the energy itself ripped a hole into the fade. A long, vertical streak of smoke seemed to harden into the crystalline formation of the rift. This all happened in a matter of seconds and it culminated in a shockwave of light and energy. In its place was not a rift. But a massive demon.    
The scaly skin looked like armor and she didn’t doubt that it functioned as such as well. The short snout and round head appeared to be mostly made up of a roaring mouth and incredibly sharp teeth. Four long, sharp horns protruded from the back of its head. Each of its arms had blade-like scales jutting from the back of its elbows and four-fingered hands ended in talons that looked like they could rip a man in half. 

It raised itself from its knees and its full height reached the second level of the courtyard ramparts. The archers loosed a volley of arrows, but it only served to anger the beast. It threw its arm as if it could sling the arrows back at the archers and roared. 

Jules covered her ears at the sound and felt her heart hammering against her chest. She had been expecting demons. Not prepared for demons, but expecting them. This creature was easily four times the size of the demons she had seen in the valley. Suddenly the scores of archers and dozen or so warriors that accompanied Cassandra and Cullen didn’t seem to be nearly enough. 

All at once, the courtyard erupted into chaos. Varric grabbed the back of her jumpsuit, between her shoulder blades. “Come on!” He shouted. She stumbled after him to the pile of debris he’d indicated earlier. She looked over at Varric. His stocky feet were braced apart to absorb the recoil of his weapon which shot brilliant beams of light.

Her eyes were drawn back to the demon when it started to lumber across the courtyard. Its massive weight made the very ground shake. Rocks dislodged from the piles of rubble, skittering down like dice landing on a table. 

Jules noticed that wisps of green continued to flow from the rift to the demon. It seemed like the blows that it was receiving weren’t doing anything but serve to anger it further. She glanced over at Varric, but he was busy reloading his weapon. She wondered where Bianca was. He’d said that he and Bianca would protect her. 

The demon continued to lumber through the courtyard, striking down soldiers as it went. Maker, she was terrified. But if she didn’t do something there was no way that anyone on this moon would be leaving alive, including her. 

Now was her chance. The demon was on the far side of the courtyard. She ran forward, leaving Varric yelling behind her. Her line to the rift was clear. She could see the wisps of green occasionally floating to the demon. 

She thrust her hand into the air and the light of the rift connected with the mark on her palm. The demon shrieked, a far different octave from its roar. It fell to one knee as if all of it’s will to fight had been drained. She let out a surprised huff of laughter. She had bet her life on a hunch, but it had worked! The green wisps no longer floated to the demon to reinforce its strength. 

Cullen and Cassandra’s war cries mingled together. Everyone in the valley coalesced on the stricken demon. It jerked and roared, no longer just annoyed. 

“Precious!” Varric’s voice called from the corner of the courtyard. “It’s not over! Get back here!” She only took a few steps when she had to jerk back to avoid the funnel of green that shot in front of her, making the ground boil and roll. It sounded as if the ground itself started to screech. Like a butterfly unfurling from a toxic cocoon, a hunchbacked demon like the one she’d seen in the valley pushed out of the ground and stretched its arms wide. 

Her eyes widened and she back peddled. Jules fell back onto her hands, pain erupting in her elbows and debris digging into her palms. She twisted and scrambled up, running in the opposite direction and further from Varric. Another demon, luckily not looking in her direction stood between her and escape. 

Her left was blocked by a mountain of debris and the rift itself, but if she turned right she would be in the middle of the battle with the colossal demon. She tried not to let panic cloud her brain. If that happened, she truly didn’t stand a chance. 

A glance over her shoulder confirmed that the hunched demon was still in pursuit.  _ Fuck! _ She looked forward again and nearly shrieked in panic when she saw that the demon, previously focused on another solider, had dispatched the man and honed in on her. One behind. One ahead. 

No time to think, she had to act. Her best bet was to get closer to people who could protect her. They were all fighting the colossal demon. Still, the odds were better than her trying to face two demons alone. 

She bolted into the fray, kicking up dust and rocks as she scrambled to gain speed. She ran to the nearest soldier with a wordless cry for help since she couldn’t seem to get any actual words to manifest. She grabbed his shoulder and was surprised when he spun to face her. His eyes were wide and his cheeks were pale. Blood covered the front of his breastplate and shot onto the front of her jumpsuit. A second, bloody smile under his chin accounted for both his fear and the blood.

A brief thought crossed her mind that she had to help him. But, there was nothing to be done. At the same moment that he collapsed into a heap in front of her, she felt herself being pulled back. There was no pain, so the demon hadn’t gotten its claws into her skin but it had a firm grip on her jumpsuit. 

Jules jerked herself forward and felt the claws rip through the thick fabric. The shoulders and front of the jumpsuit felt suddenly loose as she ran forward. She slammed into someone else, her cheek smashing against a hard breastplate. A vice-like grip clamped around her arm, spinning her around and behind the person she’d collided with. 

She fell on her ass, scrambling back as the warrior dispatched one of the demons who had been following her. The other was nowhere to be found. The man turned and she was surprised to see Cullen. He offered her his hand and she took it, letting him haul her back onto her feet. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, even as he looked around to ensure there wasn’t an immediate threat. 

_ No. “I _ think so.” She said, her entire body shaking. 

“Get back to Varric while you have a straight shot. Once we kill this demon you need to close the Breach.” His golden eyes met hers for a brief moment. In that split second, she saw his own fear. He wasn’t as immune to it as she had assumed he was. 

Oddly, it helped steel her own determination. She wasn’t the only one who was scared as she’d assumed she was. With a glance back at Varric, she saw that her path to the dwarf was indeed clear. Without further question, she ran back to him. 

“Andraste’s aching ass, Precious! What did you think you were doing?” Varric asked, motioning her behind him.

“I had to help!” She cried back. “The demon was feeding off of the Breach!” 

“Well, your lunatic plan seemed to work, I think they’re wearing it down.” He glanced back at her. “Just let me know before you go and do something stupid again, huh? I have some experience in that area and I can be very useful.”

“Alright.” She said, nodding her head quickly. She fell back against the wall and tried to suck in long, deep breaths to calm herself. The smell of burning hair, flesh and ozone made it impossible. The coppery tinge of blood wasn’t something she’d ever smelled before but she didn’t need to be told what it was. She started taking shallow breaths instead but still felt like she might gag. 

The pained howl of the demon brought her attention back to the fight. The massive nightmare seemed to try and spin away from an attacker, but everywhere it turned it was met with another. All of the demons that had appeared when she’d disrupted the rift were nowhere to be found. 

“Jules!” Her name echoed across the battlefield. “It is weakened!” The elf cried. “Seal the Breach!” 

“Come on!” Varric yelled, motioning her forward. She followed him back to the center of the courtyard. There was no hesitation this time when she threw her hand into the sky. The light erupted and with it, the tingling sensation. 

This felt so very different. The tone was so high pitched that it made her ears ring. Molten green lava seemed to fall from the Breach but luckily no more demons. The tingling turned into the burning again, so sharp and hot she thought her skin would melt off and her bones would splinter.

Just when she thought she truly couldn’t take any more, a jet of green energy shot into the sky. Like a mushroom cloud, it expanded outward, knocking nearly everyone in the courtyard off their feet. The explosion was deafening and she was sure it shook the very core of the moon. Her arm felt numb and it fell to her side, useless. 

She saw the concussive blast approach  _ the Herald _ but her vision blurred and then darkened. By the time her body hit the ground, nothing hurt anymore. A small blessing.

One last thought bloomed in her mind before the wave of darkness consumed her mind as it had her vision and pain. 

_ Thank the Maker. I’m ready. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope it wasn't too boring or dark. Still weird not putting smut into a chapter but I'm learning I think. There is more to life than smut, so I'm told.


	3. The Lost Trevelyan

When Jules came to consciousness, the immediate feeling of alarm was calmed by two very familiar sounds. The hum of  _ the Herald _ and the purr of Jasoom. As her senses returned, she felt the soothing weight of the cat on her chest. It always had a way of quelling her anxiety. She opened her eyes slowly and focused on him. His topaz blue eyes stared back at her. 

He let out a small ‘mrrpp’ noise and stretched his neck to rub his jaw against her chin. This was a routine that had been familiar in her childhood. He’d been there when she woke after every surgery, every test, every illness. Calming weight. Blue eyes. Trill. Chin rub. 

She raised her hand to pet him and surprised herself. She lifted her hand a little higher and frowned when she saw the green mark on her palm. While it certainly was out of place, it was made more so by the fact that it didn’t look organic. It wasn’t an odd growth or a festering wound. The energy roiled and shifted, more at home in a newly born nebula rather than a human hand. But then, very little about her could be considered normal by humanoid standards. 

Jules still didn’t like the idea of petting Jasoom with that hand, though the mark didn’t seem to bother him. Instead, she raised her right hand and scratched gently behind his ears. His purr immediately deepened and she could feel his front paws begin to kneed at her shirt. 

She tried to focus on the room then to determine where she was. She could instinctively tell she was on  _ the Herald _ . Whoever had left her in the room was kind enough to leave the lights on low. Enough for her to get up and walk around, but not enough to blind her upon waking. 

Slowly, the room started to look familiar. Personal quarters, but quite large. Not for the average crew member since there was only one bed. A window at her head showed the vast nothingness of space. 

No. Maker, please. 

Jules sat up slowly and Jasoom jumped onto the floor, padding to the door. She knew this room. She also knew that she shouldn’t be here. She didn’t  _ want _ to be here. Not this room.

Throwing off the blankets, she slipped off the bed and immediately went for the door. She didn’t even register her current state of dress. The door opened for her and she headed into the corridor, Jasoom padding silently beside her. 

As she moved to the back of the ship, she passed half a dozen doors to crew quarters far smaller than the one she’d just left. Large bulkhead doors blocked her path from living quarters to engine maintenance. They were one of the few doors that didn’t open for her automatically. 

She pressed her palm to the panel by the door. Jasoom slipped through the doors as they parted in the middle and moved to the edge of the darker corridor. His body lowered slightly as if he was stalking prey. As she walked along the hallway, panels of lights above her brightened her path. The cat stayed ahead of the brightening lights and disappeared around the turn of the corridor as it widened. 

To her left and right were giant bulkhead doors with large, heavy block letters. She turned to her right and the massive door labeled “PORT ENGINE 4” rumbled as it started to slide open.

The engine compartment spanned the height of the deck she was on and half of the next one. She moved to the far side of the compartment. A small bunk, normally pushed against the wall, was overturned and resting on its side. She righted it and made the bed with perfect, crisp corners. When she set the pillow at the head of the bed, Jasoom jumped onto the cot, walked up and curled into the center of it. 

She sat down on the bed beside him and finally took stock of her situation. She was in a white short sleeve shirt and shorts, soft cotton and clearly from the medical lab. She didn’t know what had happened to her blood-stained jumpsuit but she was glad it was gone. She assumed she had been unconscious for a while as she seemed to have recently been bathed. She was far cleaner than she had been when she woke in the Chantry prison and her hair was brushed and tended. 

Examining her arms and legs she found multiple bruises, but no healing wounds. She touched her face and drew her hand back with a hiss of pain. Gingerly, she touched her left cheek. It was covered in gauze so she couldn’t determine the extent or manner of injury but the cotton pad was quite large. 

With growing alarm, she opened a cabinet beside the head of the bed and pulled out a small mirror. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw her own face. Her left eye was circled with black and yellow bruises. Several days healed, but still startling. 

The bandage covered an alarming portion of her cheek. She peeled back the tape that secured the edge under her eye and gingerly pulled off the bandage. She winced at the sight of the wound. A jagged gash started just under the outside corner of her eye. It cut into the thick flesh of the apple of her cheek and ended just beside the bottom of her nose.

She sighed softly. Certainly not the worst of her scars, but absolutely the most noticeable. Now it would be a toss-up if someone noticed her mismatched eyes first or this new scar. 

Jules carefully put the bandage back on, wondering idly how she’d gotten it. She didn’t remember being injured during the fight but then again, those memories were fuzzy. It was probably what saved her from reliving the fear and anxiety of it. She had questions about the battle but was used to not getting answers.

Resigned, she replaced the mirror and opened the cabinet below it. She pulled out a clean jumpsuit and pulled it on. Unless she could locate the boots she’d been wearing to the Temple, she only had one pair left. Unfortunately, they weren’t her good ones. They were old and worn, the right steel toe dented slightly. They would do for now, however. 

A harder loss were the tools that had been in her jumpsuit. They were the ones she used most often, many of them modified to fit her needs. Maker only knew where her toolboxes were. She guessed the shockwave from the Breach was why her bed was in disarray. The engine compartments were massive and the grated floors and catwalks only allowed access to vital parts of it. She would have to climb into the harder to reach spots to make sure nothing had fallen that would cause problems later. 

One of the benefits of her tall but slim build was that she could get to those hard to reach spots with relative ease. Years of maneuvering through the well-known compartments had made her limber and flexible. Although they weren’t designed for human passage, she could get through the small, open joints between the upper and lower engine compartments. 

Being able to do so had saved her ass once already. She’d been able to get to the lower compartment without having to run to a stairwell and go down two levels. The third engine’s auxiliary turbine had almost overheated. It wouldn’t have stopped  _ the Herald _ dead in her tracks but it would have been over a week’s worth of repairs and far longer than that living under the displeasure of First Commander Hayden.. 

She left Jasoom asleep on her bed and headed back out to the lower level corridor. Just before the bulkheads to the living spaces were doors on either side. Each massive room contained parts and tools for the corresponding engine. She opened the door to the fourth engine compartment and found an old, empty toolbox to gather what she would need. 

Jules made a list in her head. Confirm the blast wave hadn’t knocked any of the engines out of alignment. Gather any unsecured debris from the four compartments. Find out what happened to her tools and boots. 

So far she wasn’t concerned about any of the other main systems of the ship. Hull, gravity, life support. She could tell immediately there were no issues there. She would have felt it. There was just a vague discomfort in her chest that suggested an issue with the engines. 

As she was gathering the last of her tools, a voice invaded her thoughts. 

“Jules? Where are you?” The Seeker, Cassandra. Naturally, the words themselves were not foreign to her, but the tone gave her pause. Concern. Was she concerned Jules wasn’t doing her job? It wasn’t something she could fault the woman for since she didn’t know Jules.

“Parts storage for engine four.” She replied. “It shouldn’t take me more than a few hours to determine what’s wrong and recalibrate.” She replied matter-of-factly. 

“You shouldn’t even be out of bed!” Cassandra said, surprised. “We’ve already had someone check the engines and determine there is nothing critical at this time. You should be recovering.” 

The Seeker was concerned for her? “I’m well enough to work,” Jules assured her. 

“Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.” The woman countered. “If you insist on being up and about we would like to speak to you. If you would return to bed, we can meet you there.” 

“No.” She said quickly, surprising even herself. “That’s not my room. I can meet you where you are.” 

“If you insist. We’re in the-” Cassandra started. “Well, I’m not sure what this room is called. We’ve been calling it the War Room.” 

“It’s technically Logistics and Planning, but that’s much shorter,” Jules said. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.” She advised. She didn’t expect to be there long. She would most likely get her new orders and then be on her way. 

She certainly wasn’t prepared for what she walked in on. 

“Arrest her!” A man, that she didn’t even recognize, thrust his finger in her direction the moment she walked through the door. His formal cream and maroon robes adorned in gold heraldry weren’t quite like the Chantry uniforms she remembered, but they were close enough for her to recognize. A Chancellor. A man who held power. The Chantry and the government of the system of Ferelden were nearly indistinguishable from each other. This man represented the people who made her. Owned her. 

She drew back in surprise at the venom in his voice. She glanced behind her to the guard by the door. 

“Belay that!” Cullen snapped when the man took a hesitant step forward. He immediately, and seemingly gratefully, returned to his post. 

“If you truly think that she is not involved in this disaster, you are blind! She needs to be arrested and interrogated. By  _ professionals _ .” The Chancellor glared at the others collected in the room. 

“She risked her life to attempt to close the Breach.” Leliana pointed out calmly. Her eyes held fire though, contradicting her even tone. 

“And yet the Breach is  _ not _ closed and she is  _ not _ dead.” He pointed out. “She may have even intended things to turn out as they have!” 

“She may have made her crew and ship disappear for nearly a century, single-handedly destroyed the Chantry, Templar and Mage leadership and made herself the only key to fixing it?” Cullen asked, incredulous. 

“So you agree that it’s a suspicious coincidence?” The man asked. Cullen threw up his hands in defeat. 

“It is not a coincidence.” Cassandra cut in. “It is providence. The Maker sent her to us in our hour of need.”

“Coincidence, providence, it isn’t yours to decide.” The man said, spittle flying from his mouth. “Your duty is to serve the Chantry.” 

“My duty is to serve the principles upon which the Chantry was built. My duty is to the Divine. I heard, with my own ears, the Most Holy call out to this woman.” Cassandra looked up at Jules. “I must admit, my heart grew angry knowing that this woman survived where the Divine did not, but I truly believe that she is not behind this. She has done nothing but assist when she could have run.”

“The Breach is not our only concern.” Leliana pointed out. “We must determine who was behind the explosion at Conclave. Without leaders, the factions at war will devolve further into chaos. We must assume that the mastermind is still at large. Perhaps they are closer than we think.” She said, pointedly looking at the man.

“You consider  _ me _ a suspect?” The Chancellor’s cheeks turned a blotchy red. “But not  _ her _ ?” He asked, thrusting his finger at Jules again. 

“Had she not risked herself in disrupting the rift, which may not have worked” Cullen pointed out. “The demon would certainly have destroyed us all.” His amber eyes turned to her. “The Breach remains, as does your mark. We won’t force you to aid us, however, you are our only hope of closing it.” 

“It is not yours to decide!” The Chancellor exploded, repeating his senior favorite phrase and making Jules winced even though she was on the other side of the room. “I demand that  _ the Herald _ be returned to the Chantry and the Ferelden government. Immediately.”

“No.” Cassandra shot back hotly, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“If those are my orders, I have to go,” Jules spoke up softly. “I belong to them.” 

Cullen’s fist slammed onto the table, drawing all eyes back to him. “You are not-” He took a quick breath to calm himself and looked up at her again. “You are not a piece of property. You are a person with-” He gestured all around him. “-the  _ most _ amazing prosthetic in the entire galaxy of Thedas. Possibly the universe! It isn’t that we aren’t handing you over because you’re useful to us.” His tone had softened, losing all of the fire but none of the passion. He regarded her as if she was the only one in the room.

“It’s because you aren’t ours to give. You aren't anyone's to give.” Impossibly, her heart skipped a beat. His eyes were-she wasn’t sure. She’d never seen that look before. Cullen’s brows were furrowed slightly. It was as if he was willing her to believe it.

“Then I want to stay. I want to help.” She said, surprising herself. The words just fell from her lips. She did believe him. The corner of his mouth lifted ever so slightly and he nodded. 

The man opened his mouth to speak, his cheeks growing ever more splotched. Before he could start a fresh tirade, Leliana raised a hand sharply. Amazingly, he closed his mouth again. “The official and documented stance on  _ the Herald  _ is that she has been lost and that Jules Trevelyan is dead.” She pointed out. 

Cassandra demanded everyone’s attention when she slammed a huge tome on the table. Contrary to her previous action, she laid her hand on the book reverently. “This,” She looked up pointedly at the Chancellor. “Is a writ from the Divine, granting us the authority to act.” 

She stood upright, hands clasped behind her in full military bearing. “I declare the Inquisition reborn.” She walked toward the man. “We will close the Breach, we will find those responsible, we  _ will _ restore order.” Her voice, and accent, were growing stronger with each declaration. The Chancellor, seemingly without realizing it, was backing toward the door. 

‘With  _ or without _ your approval.” The Seeker only had one or two inches on the man, but she had a way of making it feel like much more. Jules shuffled to the side quickly when the Chancellor let out a frustrated huff and tried to storm out of the room. 

It didn’t open automatically, as he’d assumed. He slammed his hand on the pad beside the door with such force Jules brows raised in surprise. Instead of opening, the panel flashed brightly and let out a dull, denying thud sound. 

Jules cleared her throat and pushed her bangs behind her ear. She didn't much care for the abuse he was doling out on the panel but it would hold. Some deep part of her was enjoying his frustration.

“Why won’t this  _ open _ ?” The Chancellor shouted in fury, hitting the panel over and over. It strobed with warning flashes and continued to thump at him. 

“Funny,” Leliana commented. “It’s like she doesn’t like you.”

Jules shot the woman the barest of smiles. 

With a disgusted noise, Cassandra batted his hand away and pressed the panel, gently. The door slid open, allowing him access back onto the main floor of Control. Cassandra looked at the guard who’d previously been ordered to arrest Jules. “Make sure he leaves the ship with no further...hysterics.” Her lips turned up in a sneer. 

Cullen pulled back a chair from the table and sat down hard with a huff. “We have no leader. No numbers. Now no Chantry support.” He looked up at the women surrounding him. 

“What are we, exactly? What’s the Inquisition?” Jules asked curiously. 

Cassandra turned toward her. "The first Inquisition predates the Chantry. It was formed after the first Blight to bring order to the chaos that it wrought. They later became the Templar order.” 

“Who have now lost their way,” Cullen commented, running a hand through his hair. 

“We can’t wait for the selection of a new Divine.” Leliana advised. “With the Templars at war with the mages, any help that we can expect from either is likely limited to one side and minimal at best.” 

Cassandra regarded her evenly. “You said you wanted to help, but we won’t hold you to that. If you stay, it will not be an easy road.”

“You need me, don’t you?” She looked down at her glowing hand. “Do I even have a choice?” 

“Of course you have a choice,” Cassandra said. Jules looked back up at her. Help, or run and let untold numbers of people die. Not much of a choice for any decent person.

“I’ll stay.” She decided. 

“We were hoping you would.” Leliana said with a friendly smile. Very different from the woman she’d met when she first woke up in the Chantry prison. She liked this one more. “If you would be amenable, we would like to use  _ the Herald  _ as our flagship. With you as her head.” 

“Oh no,” Jules said quickly, holding up her hands. “I can’t do that. That’s not my place. I don’t know the first thing about leading a crew. I’m happy to take care of her, but someone else will have to lead the people that live on her.” 

“Commander Cullen and I can split those duties.” Cassandra offered. 

Jules let out a relieved sigh and nodded. She walked over to the table and touched it. A screen lit up and she navigated to the personnel list. “Here’s the usual compliment. She runs well with these positions.” 

“Only a complement of 10 for military staff?” Cullen asked, surprised. 

Jules nodded. “ _ The Herald _ is-” She paused for a moment. “Was, a special operations ship. There was only a knight-commander, knight-captain and 8 templars but they were all highly trained. The medical staff as well. We often offered medical aid to the larger forces we went to support. “Meatball surgery” they called it. Get them stable enough to be transferred to bigger facilities. Essentially, we went on all of the missions that didn’t exist and we were never officially there.”

“I have a contact with a Ben Hassrath Qunari who leads a group of mercenaries. Perhaps they could fill that need for us.” Leliana suggested. 

“You don’t think he would report back to his superiors about our operations?” Cullen asked. 

“He absolutely would.” Leliana said simply. “But that would be true of any outside assistance. Besides, I am confident that I can both guide the information he sends back and that he would not compromise our efforts. He is a spy, but he is also a good man. I will reach out to see if he would be willing to meet.”

“If I’m no longer needed, engine three is out of alignment.” Jules said, taking a step toward the door. 

“There is actually one more thing.” Leliana said, moving to stand in front of her. “When we found out who you were, I took the liberty of reaching out to the Trevelyan family on Ostwick in the Free Marches system. It is still the seat of the family. There is currently only one living Trevelyan, other than yourself.”

“Are you hoping they’ll help?” Jules asked, clearly misunderstanding Leliana’s reasoning. 

“It certainly couldn’t help to ask, but that is not why I reached out. I thought you might like the support of your family. Even just to know that you have some who still live. His name is Morgan and he would very much like to meet you.” She smiled gently. “Apparently you are somewhat of a family legend.”

Jules didn’t know what to say. She’d never considered that she would have living family, much less that they would want to meet her. “Morgan was my brother’s name.” She said quietly. It just popped out of her mouth. “I, uh, I just remembered that.” She admitted. “I wonder if he looks like my brother.” 

“Do you need assistance with the engine? Once it’s repaired we can leave for the Free Marches. It should only take a few days.” Cullen told her. 

“While you’re working on that, I will gather a full crew complement.” Cassandra informed her. 

“You should be able to add the crew to the system.” Jules said, slightly distracted as she mulled over the news. “I can show you how.” She looked up at Cullen. “I can manage the engine. It will only take me an hour or so.” She nodded and turned to walk away. 

“Jules.” Cullen’s voice made her turn back. “Thank you.” He said, genuinely. Cassandra and Leliana nodded in agreement. 

She nodded and left the war room. 

\-----

Jules kept busy with her duties during the two day trip. She was still trying to determine how she felt about meeting Morgan. She went back and forth from excited to terrified. She was most worried that while he said he wanted to meet her, he would be disappointed when he did. The closer they got to Ostwick, the more anxiety she felt roiling in her stomach. 

Leliana had provided information on the Trevelyans since she had been “acquired”. She must have read it half a dozen times. Morgan was her brother’s great-great-grandson. She saw very little familial resemblance in the picture that she had. The only thing that they very clearly shared was eye color. 

He was trained as a warrior with two handed weapons, preferring strength over speed. It was listed in his military record that his unit had nicknamed him “One Hit Wonder”. When he hit an enemy, they didn’t get back up. Apparently he was also an exceptional sniper.  _ What an odd combination of skills. _

She was going over the dossier once more in the mess hall. It was the only place that she could look out a window into the infinity of space without drawing attention. She considered going into the Officer's Club. A handmade sign below stated "enlisted personnel welcome". Commander Hayden had made that authorization early to help bind the crew but it hadn't included her.

A voice startled her out of her thoughts. “May I sit beside you?” She looked up sharply and found Cassandra standing beside her. "Unless you would rather be alone.” She added. 

Jules nodded and gestured at the chair across the table. 

“Your feline companion isn't with you?” Cassandra questioned curiously. 

Jules sat back in the chair pointed at her lap. Cassandra rose slightly, looking over the table edge to find a circle of black fur huddled in Jules’ lap. Cassandra smiled and sat back down. 

“Tell me how you're doing.” The Seeker requested. Jules opened her mouth but Cassandra added quickly: “Honestly, tell me how you're doing.” Jules shut her mouth and looked down at the dossier. Her brows furrowed slightly and she shook her head. 

“I'd like to say that I'm fine, but I'm not.” She admitted quietly. “None of this feels real. Almost a century has gone by, but it's only been a few days for me. And I know that you and Cullen picked all of these people to be on board, but I-“ She looked up sharply. ”I'm sorry. I shouldn't be questioning you.” 

Cassandra leaned forward, resting her arms on the table, crossed in front of her. “No, please tell me the problem. I want to hear your thoughts.” 

“I didn't interact with the crew, but I knew them all. Now everywhere I look there's just unrecognizable faces. This is my home. This is all I've known. Until a few days ago I hadn’t left her in years. Now, there's all this.” She looked up at the woman and for a brief moment, looked her in the eyes. Cassandra’s heart ached at what she saw there. “Now I have to become a completely different person.”

Cassandra couldn’t relate to that in the slightest. She didn’t know what to say. Nothing would make it easier and to deny it would be a lie. Instead, she indicated the file in front of Jules. “Are you excited?” She asked. 

“Should I be?” Jules asked. It wasn’t sarcasm, she was genuinely unsure if she should be or not. 

Cassandra smiled gently. “That would depend on the situation but in this case, I would say yes. You should always air on the side of caution in case things don’t go as you think, but excitement is normal.” 

“From our limited communication, he seems like a very nice man. Your family has an excellent reputation of being kind and generous people.” She offered, hoping that it would help with some of Jules’ nervousness. 

She nodded slowly, moving through the screens until she got back to Morgan’s picture. Her brows furrowed as she studied the picture. “He shares my brother’s name. I haven’t thought of him in years.” 

“His eyes are the same color green as yours.” Cassandra commented. “You seem to share some Trevelyan features.” 

“What if he’s embarrassed of me?” Jules asked before she even realized what was coming out of her mouth. 

Cassandra wanted to reach out and take her hand, but refrained. “He won’t be.” He assured Jules. “And if, by some miracle, he is, you should not take it as a reflection on who you are. He has never met you and I can say with confidence that you are a good person.”

Jules looked up in surprise. Cassandra got the distinct impression that no one had ever said that to her before. 

“I’ll leave you to your thoughts.” Cassandra said with a gentle smile, rising from her seat. “Just know that if you’d ever like to talk, about anything, I’m available. I’ve taken up in the second commander’s quarters for the duration of the trip.” 

Jules nodded slowly, absently reaching down to stroke Jasoom’s soft fur. “Thank you.” She couldn’t remember the last time she’d said that and meant it. 

\-----

Despite the fact that it was the hub of all ship activity, Jules had spent very little time in the control room. She stood in there now, off to the side as she watched the planet of Ostwick grow closer. It was beautiful in a way that made her heart ache. Blue rolling oceans, lush green land, mountain ranges dusted with white. 

“Would you like to go alone or would you like for some of us to accompany you?” Cullen asked. Cassandra was already a given as she was a much more confident pilot. 

“Someone should probably be there to represent the Inquisition.” Jules felt weird being the one to decide who would or wouldn’t leave the ship when she’d previously been the one who needed permission. Not that she’d ever asked for it. “I know Josephine made the trip just for this.”

“We have also been offered military aid. Cullen, you should attend as well.” Cassandra advised. “We can be ready to leave in half an hour.”

Good, just enough time to change. Unfortunately she didn’t have much by way of clothing selection. Undergarments and jumpsuits. She did have one more formal outfit for when higher ups of the Chantry or Ferelden government took a tour of the ship. Relatively simple compared to the formal uniforms of the crew. Simple black slacks, a stark white high neck shirt and a dark grey jacket with  _ the Herald’s _ insignia on the left breast. No name or rank.

It zipped up the front, but she left it open. She was used to relatively loose jumpsuits and the confinement of the jacket was uncomfortable. She brushed her hair, struggling to decide if she should leave it down or put it up. Eventually she decided on down. She’d twisted it up into a hasty bun the night before after her shower and the result was a soft wave that fell just past her shoulders. She swept her bangs behind her ear and looked at her cheek in the mirror. 

She no longer needed a bandage, but the mark was still red and angry. There wasn’t much to be done about it now. She was just glad that it was healing nicely and wouldn’t scar too much. She looked into her mismatched eyes for a long few moments. She wondered if it was the first thing everyone saw or just her.

Jules tried to convince herself that it didn’t matter. She’d left the ship twice already of her own volition. She could do it once more. And then a fourth time, and a fifth and then however times it took until all of this was over. 

Cassandra was already working through the flight checks when she entered the hangar. Cullen was talking with the woman she assumed was Josephine. Their distraction allowed her a moment to study the three of them. She hadn’t really gotten a moment to do so in the last few days. Now that she felt critical of her own appearance, she couldn’t help but compare herself to their attire. 

The Seeker’s and the Commander both wore uniforms, but quite different from each other. The newest woman, the ambassador, appeared to be adorned in fabric entirely made from precious metals and precious gems. Gold leggings moulded against her slim legs, disappearing beneath a sapphire tunic. A gold sash around her waist struck brilliantly against the blue. The soft, silk shirt she wore beneath the tunic rose high against her collarbone, the shoulders flaring into puffs that would look impossibly ridiculous on anyone else. Her warm skin and black hair seemed to soak up the brilliant light, outshining the stunning attire.

Cassandra wore thick pants in a muted grey with diagonal strips of cream running from the outside of each hip to the inside of the knee. Her pistol holster was strapped around her waist in a matching smooth cream. Her jacket was double breasted, the right panel laid over the left. Dark silverite buttons glinted against the grey. A deep maroon capped the jacket from shoulder to shoulder, the color continuing to the top of the high collar. The symbol of the Seekers displayed proudly on the chest, unchanged from Jules’ time. Her short black hair laid down perfectly, each hair afraid to move out of place, especially the thin braid crown, which seemed to be secured by magic. 

Cullen seemed to talk so easily with Josephine. His brows raised ever so slightly in resignation and he shrugged, shaking his head. Judging by the dark golden stubble covering his jaw, he hadn’t shaved in a day or so. Yet, his hair was controlled with military precision, pushed back away from his face. She noticed the scar on his upper lip when he smiled. His amber eyes warmed at something Josephine said. 

His uniform was expertly tailored to his build. Rich brown pants tucked into well cared for tactical boots, laced tightly. A wide leather belt held a beautiful hydrogen blade at his side. The golden guard was a work of art. It was a manifestation of the symbol that had come to represent the newly formed Inquisition. The watchful eye with it’s spires of flame in gold, the hilt and actual blade itself completing the heraldry that was showing up on more and more uniforms around  _ the Herald _ . 

The thickness of the deep maroon jacket suggested some sort of projectile protection. It looked like it zipped, but he’d left it open to show a brown-black shirt beneath. Gold edging and embellishments stood out against the maroon around the wrists and waist of the coat. It seemed Ferelden fashion had not changed, judging by the fur cowl that capped the shoulders of the coat. The soft black was streaked with maroon. It seemed to make his already broad shoulders stand out more, the tapering of his waist made more prevalent by the slimming of the fur down the lapels. 

He glanced over Josephine’s shoulder and caught sight of her. Jules cleared her throat and headed toward them, nervously pulling at the bottom of her own plain jacket. The ambassador turned and smiled warmly. “Jules. I apologize that I’ve not had the chance to meet you yet. I’ve been very excited to do so.” Even her accent was silky. “You’re becoming quite infamous within our small ranks.”

Jules’ brows raised slightly. “Really?” 

The Antivan nodded. “They're saying that the name of your ship is no coincidence that you are indeed the Herald of Andraste, sent to save us.”

She immediately felt heat rise into her cheeks. 

“Rest assured, we’re trying to keep such talk to a minimum. Our soldiers should be keeping their minds on other things.” Cullen spoke up when he saw the discomfort on her face. They'd interacted a little in the last few days. Only short conversations and cordial small talk, both of which she was still getting used to. She found that she wasn’t very good at it at all, but the Commander and Seeker didn’t seem to mind. Neither of them had referred to her as a Flea in any of their conversations. 

“We’re ready to depart.” Cassandra called out from the cockpit of the shuttle. Cullen gestured for the two women to board first. She took her place in the copilot’s seat, but Cassandra didn’t seem to need her assistance. It had been years since she’d trained to fly the shuttle and she had a feeling it wouldn’t be as easy to figure out as the ATV she’d driven. 

She got to sit back and watch as the shuttle left  _ the Herald _ . Cassandra was cool and calculated, even when the turbulence of entry made Jules grip the arms of the chair with a white knuckles. She relaxed more when the shuttle evened out, flying high over the coastline. Beautiful fields of various crops seemed to roll on forever. 

She could just see the namesake city of Ostwick on the horizon when Cassandra descended toward the Trevelyan estate. It was rather modest and had aged well under the care of her family. The manor itself was older than she’d expected. As they circled it, she looked for any familiar features but, try as she might, she didn’t remember any of the landscape. 

Jules swallowed hard when she saw Morgan standing outside of the hangar waiting for them. Anxiety exploded in her stomach, making it roll more than the turbulent descent had. He was lost from sight as they landed in the hangar. She offered to help Cassandra but the Seeker assured her she would be fine and to go on ahead without her. 

As she left the shuttle and headed out of the hangar with Cullen and Josephine she felt nauseous, her stomach in knots. She was glad she hadn't eaten breakfast that day. Morgan met them just outside, extending his hand to Josephine. 

“Signorina Montilyet.” He greeted them warmly. “A pleasure to see you again. I just recently heard from your father. I’m glad to hear your family is doing well. And you with a position in the new Inquisition. That should certainly open some doors for your family.”

“Indeed It’s so wonderful to see you again Morgan..” Josephine seemed to smile so easily. “This is the leader of our army, such as it is, First Commander Cullen Rutherford.” 

The men shook hands cordially. “Good, I have much to discuss with you. Welcome to Ostwick.” 

“And just joining us is Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast.” She introduced. 

“Seeker,” He greeted with another hand shake. “I believe we may be distantly related.” 

“Quite likely. The Pentaghast family is quite...diverse.” Cassandra commented dryly. 

“And of course,” Josephine gestured toward her. “This is-”

Morgan stepped forward. “Jules Trevelyan.” He said with a wide smile. She had seen a picture of his face and a list of his height, weight and other physical attributes but it was far different seeing the person as a whole. She was rather tall for a woman, but Morgan was far taller. Perhaps even more so than Cullen. 

He had thick black hair that fell to his shoulders, perhaps a little bit longer than her own. The short, well-groomed beard made him look quite dashing, almost roguish. So unalike, yet when she looked into his eyes, she knew they were related. He had the same muted, moss green eyes to match her left one. There was a scar on his left eyebrow, bisecting it at an angle through the middle. It hadn’t been in the picture she’d been studying for the last couple of days. 

“The lost Trevelyan.” He said as he came to stand in front of her. He didn’t make any attempt to reach out and touch her as she was afraid that he might. “My entire childhood was filled with stories with you.”

“Some of the generations before me passively tried to find out what happened to you. I've been more active but my best hope was finding your resting place. To think that you would just drop out of the sky one day.” He shook his head in disbelief. “You look just like his drawings.” 

“Drawings?” Jules asked curiously. 

Morgan nodded. “Your brother was quite the artist. He missed a few years in the beginning, when they still thought you might be coming home, but every year on your birthday, he drew a sketch of what he thought you might look like at that age. I’ve gotten them out of storage so that you can have them and see for yourself.” 

He grew more reserved, reaching out to lay his hand on her shoulder. She resisted the urge to pull away. Not that his touch was uncomfortable, just foreign. “He never stopped looking for you.” Morgan told her. 

“I don't remember very much about him.” Jules admitted, guilty. “I didn't even really remember his name until two days ago.”

Morgan smiled reassuringly. “Some information on you arrived mysteriously yesterday. I can tell you that no one blames you for not remembering. You haven’t exactly had an easy go of things. It’s good to have you home though.” 

“Please join me inside.” He requested, addressing the group. “There’s a lot to discuss.” He crooked his elbow and offered Jules his arm. After a moment of hesitation, she slid hers through and allowed him to escort her to the estate. In the end, it was the warmth in his eyes that convinced her to do it. She didn’t really know what the emotion was behind his look, but she liked it. It made her feel warm. 

She wondered if any of the rooms that they passed through were the same as when she had been a child. None of it looked familiar. Many of the furnishings and decorations were clearly old, all of them lovingly maintained. 

“So you've committed to this Inquisition thing?” He asked, gesturing for her to take a chair in the sitting room. He sat down beside her and the others found comfortable seats as well. The arrangement allowed them all to face each other. 

“Yes.” She acknowledged, holding up her glowing green palm. “I'm the only one with this. I feel like I have a duty to.”

“As long as you're sure. You know that you always have a home here.” He offered her. 

She nodded. “Thank you, but I'm sure. It's the right thing to do.”

Morgan chuckled. “You certainly sound like a Trevelyan. I was hoping you would say that.” He turned to address the others as well. “In that case, I have a little under 8,000 men and women who are willing to support the cause. I know that the inquisition is only a half a week old so the Trevelyan estate will pay for all food, uniforms, equipment and housing for those troops.”

“Unfortunately, that is about as much of a financial burden as the Trevelyan state can bear. Jules also has funds available, but given what she is already contributing, I would hope you would not ask more of her.” He added. He could see the surprise on Jules’ face, the shock rendering her speechless. “Your brother left half of the estate to you in his will. Of course, that amount is quite a bit more now. Eighty years of interest makes for quite a tidy sum.” 

“Why wouldn’t you just use the money if you thought I was dead?” Jules asked. 

“We've always prospered so nobody has ever had to dig into it. It's kind of become a family tradition. In fact, instructions that those funds should still be kept in trust is already written into my will.” He smiled again. “I’m very happy to be changing that.” 

“I suppose the Inquisition can have it. I have no use for it.” She said softly, unsure how to process this new information. She didn’t know what to do with money. “You can have all of it.” She said, looking up at Josephine. 

Her eyes widened and she held up her hands. “No. We absolutely will not accept that. For what you are already doing to help we could not accept monetary contributions as well. We should be paying you. Please keep your funds for whatever you should need.”

“It is quite likely that you will be traveling to many places.” Cassandra pointed out. “Should you see something you like, you can use your inheritance.’

“Buy something for myself?” Jules said softly. Such a concept was quite new for her. 

“I have one other offering for the Inquisition. However, it comes with very strict conditions.” Morgan said. “I have a very accomplished military career and I would like to join the Inquisition as well."

“Your conditions?” Cullen asked. 

“I stay with Jules as her personal guardian. Where she goes, I go.” He said, his tone leaving no room for argument or negotiation. “The lost Trevelyan has been found, and I’m not about to let anything else happen to her under my watch.” 

He turned to look at her again. She snapped back to reality. Surely she wasn’t worth so much fuss. “If you’ll have me, that is.” He said with a broad smile. “I’d like to make sure nothing like this happens again.” He said, indicating her new scar.. 

She touched her cheek gently. “This was just an accident. Apparently, I hit a cornerstone when I passed out.” 

“Well, we'll have to come up with a much more interesting story than that.” Morgan chuckled. 

Cullen interjected. “To be fair, the reason she passed out was because she had just defeated a rather large demon and sealed a Breach the size of a small moon over the planet of Haven.” 

“Huh.” Morgan said simply, looking at Jules again.” I don't think it gets much more interesting than that. Maybe start off with that next time.” 

Jules nodded, not sure if he was teasing her or not. Morgan rose from his chair, offering Jules his hand. “I would like to speak with Jules privately in my office. I will send out someone to start coordinating the transport of the troops with you.” 

Hesitantly, she took his hand and stood. 

“Well be here should you need us.” Cassandra told her. “Just call.” 

“I will.” She promised, following Morgan out of the room. She felt her shoulder start to rise and drop. She tried her hardest to keep it from happening, but couldn't. If Morgan noticed, he didn’t say anything. 

He took her to a small room just a short distance down the hall. The rich mahogany walls complemented the red wine leather chairs in front of the massive desk. He pulled out her chair for her, and then sat across from her instead of behind the desk. 

“How are you?" He asked sitting forward in his chair slightly to rest his elbows against his knees. “I can't imagine how insane the last few days have been for you.”

She shrugged to cover up her shoulder tic. “I’m fine I suppose. Other than falling asleep one day and waking up almost a century later.”

“How are they treating you?” He followed up. 

“Well.” She assured him. “Nicely.” She said, suddenly deciding on the word she really wanted. “Everyone is very nice.” 

“Good.” He said with a satisfied smile. “I get the idea that makes you uncomfortable.” He commented. 

“I’m used to ignoring and being ignored. The only one who really spoke to me was First Commander Hayden. As long as I did my duties, he took very good care of me. I was lucky to have a Commander like him.” She said, looking up at him hesitantly. 

“Apparently I don’t report to anyone any more. More people have asked my opinions on things in the last few days than they have the last few years. They’re treating me like…” Her voice dropped off. 

“A person?” He prompted. She met his eyes and nodded. 

“We’ll have to get you used to that. That’s how it’s going to be from here on out. I’ll see to that.” He promised. “That was all. I just wanted to make sure you felt you could talk freely if everything wasn’t okay.”

He stood and offered his hand once more. He pulled her up gently and then released her hand. “Let’s get you home, shall we?” 

Relief blossomed and she nodded. "I think you'll like her." Jules said, giving him a brief smile. Though he didn't know how truly rare her smile was, he cherished it anyway.

The lost Trevelyan. She was standing in front of him, but he couldn't shake the feeling that she was still very much lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just for fun, if someone catches the two references I added from one of my favorite TV shows of all time, I'll name a minor and recurring supporting character after them! You can even dictate personality and quirks! (Or another name of their choice.) I'm thinking of either a pilot, bartender or doctor. 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading! I'm so appreciative of your support and love. I'm so in love with this project and I'm so excited you are too. 💕
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr as jacklyn-flynn!


	4. New Normal

Morgan was rather impressed with _the Herald._ The outside wasn’t much to look at. Scorch marks and long scars marred the once beautiful hull. It all seemed cosmetic though. The sleek body was outlined by the bright white glow of the engines and Maker, she was a sight. He’d seen a fair amount of vessels in his time and she was one of the best. 

The hangar and the ships it housed were well maintained. He was excited to see the rest of the vessel. _The Herald_ was magnificent but none of it would be worth the pain that Jules had been through.

He was the last to disembark the shuttle after Jules and was startled by a cat that seemed to come out of nowhere and weave between his feet. “Who’s this trying to kill me?” He asked, stopping so that he didn’t step on the feline. 

Jules turned and smiled softly, a barely perceptible lift of the corner of her lips. Her eyes however brightened considerably at the sight of the cat. “That’s Jasoom. He usually doesn’t show himself to people right away, if he does at all.” 

Jasoom raised his front paws and rested them above Morgan’s knee. His claws started to kneed as he curved his back in a long stretch. Morgan winced but didn’t move. Jasoom then sat down and batted at his ankle gently with his paw. 

“What’s this? What’s going on now?” He asked, looking up at Jules. Her look was one of disbelief. 

“Um...he-uh-he wants you to kneel down so that he can get on your shoulders.” She told him. She had been amazed when he’d shown himself to Cullen and Cassandra in the Control room. He’d never been on anyone’s shoulders but hers. He’d never even allowed anyone other than Jules to pet him. 

Morgan raised his brows curiously and knelt down. Jasoom jumped up, tail flicking as he balanced himself on Morgan’s broad shoulder. He stood slowly so as not to dislodge or unbalance the feline. “This is a good thing, right?” 

Jules smiled, perhaps her first real smile in years. She’d already found herself liking Morgan, even feeling a bond between them. Jasoom’s reaction only strengthened that. “I guess he has a thing for Trevelyans.” She joked. 

“Let me take you to your quarters. The First Commander’s are empty so you can stay there.” She told him. He walked quite gracefully for his size and stature so Jasoom had no problems staying upright in his regal pose. 

“Doesn’t First Commander Rutherford stay there?” Morgan asked curiously. 

“No, apparently he thought they were too large. He took the smaller quarters that used to belong to the Knight-Commander.” She explained. 

“Well, I’ve been in some shit holes, so I’m happy to take the nicest room in the joint.” He said with a chuckle. “What about you? How close are our quarters?”

“I’m on the other side of the ship. I sleep in engine compartment four.” She told him. 

He touched her arm gently, making her stop and turn to face him. “You have a room in the engine compartment?” He asked, slightly incredulous. She wasn’t sure why he sounded upset by that. 

“Not a room, just a little corner. It’s all I need.” Jules explained. 

“The hell it is.” Morgan replied, perturbed. “First of all, we’re heading to the bow and the engines are as far astern as you can get. You really don’t have your own room? I mean, I understand the assholes before, but Josephine, Cassandra, and Cullen haven’t offered you your own room? On _your_ ship?”

She started slightly when he said “ _your_ ship.” She was still struggling with the level of independence she’d recently gained. “I don’t think they know. They put me up in the First Commander’s quarters after I was hurt, but I think it was because they didn’t know where I slept.” 

“They should have asked,” Morgan growled. “You’re moving.” He decided. “Right now, let’s get your stuff.” She opened her mouth, but he smiled and shook his head. “No argument. What other rooms are available, close to mine?”

She changed direction and started leading him through the hallways to her space. “The Chantry liaison’s room is right next to yours, so is the chief medical officer’s.”

“Which one is nicer?” He asked, reaching up to scratch under Jasoom’s chin. 

“The liaison’s, but the medical officer’s has a window. I’ve always wanted a window.” She admitted, a little shyly. 

“Well, it isn’t the medical officer’s quarters anymore. It’s yours.” He said, smiling down at her as they walked. 

She had to avert her gaze and felt her cheeks flush. She was getting her own room? Of course she was. She had a choice. She was allowed to do that now. When she led him to the back of the compartment, Jasoom jumped down to the cot and then to the floor, disappearing behind one of the turbines. 

Morgan helped her gather her things, of which there were few. “Are jumpsuits the only thing you have to wear? You need more clothes.” He commented. “Josephine seems like she can make that happen.” 

Jules tried to hide her embarrassment. She knew that he didn’t mean for it to embarrass her. She had no reason to be. Things were different now, she just had to catch up. She had completely forgotten about her one treasure, hiding beneath her cot. 

“Is this a violin case?” Morgan asked, setting the black case on the cot. 

“I didn’t steal it!” She said quickly. 

Morgan looked up at her from his kneeling position. “I know you didn’t. Do you play it?” 

Jules nodded sheepishly. “Not very well. The violin isn’t in very good shape. Someone was going to throw it away but let me keep it.” Someone reluctantly letting her keep their trash was probably the nicest thing to happen to her in her memory. 

“We should play together some time. Though, finding a piano might be difficult.” He mused, the last more to himself. 

“There’s a piano in the Officer’s Club.” She said absently, wanting to get out that information before she slaked her curiosity. “You play the piano?”

He stood, adding the violin to her meager pile of belongings. “Part of the noble lifestyle. I was pretty young when I started lessons. I’d like to think I’m pretty good.” 

“I never would have guessed you played an instrument.” She said bluntly.

“Because I kill things with a battle axe?” He asked with a chuckle. 

“Well...yes.” She answered honestly. 

“I never would have imagined you playing anything either. We’re both full of surprises.” He said, loading up his arms with most of her things. “Alright, you lead the way.” 

They walked silently back to the bow of the ship where the cluster of officer’s quarters were located. The closer they got to that section, the more butterflies collected in her stomach. She couldn’t place why, but she didn’t like the idea of Morgan staying in First Commander Hayden’s quarters. 

She mulled it over while Morgan helped her settle into her new room. All of the quarters had been emptied, so she was able to quickly put away her belongings. 

“We’ll have to get you some stuff. Books, trinkets, whatever you like.” Morgan commented, sitting on the side of her bed, the head of which lay against the window. She already knew that she was going to reverse the bed so that she could look out the window as she fell asleep. 

“I’ll have to figure out what that is.” She said softly. “Books might be nice though.” 

“I brought your chest with me. It’s a collection of some of your things that were left behind and other keepsakes. Letters your brother wrote and those drawings I mentioned. You can start with those.” He offered. “Alright,” He said, standing and rubbing his hands together. “Let’s check out my new place.” 

He headed out the door and turned left, but Jules caught his shoulder. “Wait!” She said quickly, alarmed at the urgency in her own voice. 

He was already frowning when he turned to look at her. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” 

“Yes!” She said quickly, trying to figure out how she could cover for her outburst. “Nothing! It’s just...I-I think you would like this room better. There’s no window, but the layout is more like a personal library. Judging by all of the books in your office, you might be more comfortable there.” 

He didn’t seem to question her reasoning and nodded. “Sounds great, Sometimes staring into the vastness of space can be unsettling for us planet dwellers.” He chuckled. Relief flooded through her. She cast a wary glance at the First Commander’s door before opening Morgan’s for him. 

“After this, we’ll get you into the system so you can move about her freely,” Jules told him, stepping aside once she entered so that he could look around. 

The room was richly furnished compared to all of the others. Rich mahogany bookshelves lined two opposite walls. The headboard of the large bed also had a bookshelf built-in. A desk sat against the same wall as the door, light blonde oak with a matching chair finished with red leather. 

“Yeah, I think I could get used to this,” Morgan said, impressed. “You know, for all the starving people they claim to love, the Chantry higher-ups sure like to live nicely.” Jules couldn’t comment. She knew next to nothing about the Chantry and its teachings. Fleas weren’t worthy of the Maker’s love, she supposed. 

“This was Chancellor Mallum’s room. Any time he wasn’t working, which wasn’t often, he was buried in his books. We would get a huge shipment on almost every planet we visited. I got the idea that his position on _the Herald_ wasn’t his first choice.” She told him. 

“Well, it’s my first choice.” He commented, running a hand along the well used desk. “This will work nicely.” He said finally. “I’ll pick you up for dinner?” He asked with a smile. 

“I’ll pick you up. You can’t go anywhere without me.” She pointed out. 

“I wouldn’t want to.” He chuckled as she walked out.

\-----

Jules was heading back to the engine compartments when the bald elf, - _what was his name?-_ stepped in front of her, seemingly out of nowhere. She lowered her gaze and her head, stepping to the side and against the corridor wall to let him pass. “Excuse me.” She said quietly. 

“Actually, Miss Trevelyan, I was hoping to talk to you.” He said, his voice steady and even, almost monotone. 

She’d gone without hearing the name Trevelyan for over a decade, and then all of the sudden it was all anyone called her. A positive change perhaps from Flea, but certainly an adjustment. 

Jules had a hard time meeting this man's gaze specifically. There was something so intense about his eyes that it made her uncomfortable. She tried not to show her unease and looked up at him. 

“How can I help you?” She asked politely. 

“My name is Solas, I don’t think we’ve met formally. I’ve heard that you have a very unique companion.” He started. “I would very much like to meet him.” 

“He’ll show himself if he wants. I can’t make him come.” Jules said, though it was only a partial truth. If she called, he would more than likely come. But she was telling the truth when she said she couldn’t make him. 

Solas took a step toward her, head cocked ever so slightly. “Would he come if you were threatened?” 

Jules took an equal, if not larger, step back. “Are you a threat?” She asked softly. 

He smiled ever so slightly and nodded. “A fair question.” He clasped his hands behind his back. “I suspect, from the limited amount I have heard on your companion, that they may be a spirit.” 

It was clear that he was expecting some sort of reaction out of her. She simply continued to look up at him. “Do you know what spirits are?” He continued when her expression didn’t change. 

Jules’ brows furrowed. “Yes, I know what a spirit is.” She said, a bit sharply. Now this conversation was going back to a place she was familiar with. She wanted to tell him she wasn’t illiterate, just sheltered, but she held her tongue. 

“Would you try calling him?” He requested. Jules wanted nothing more than for this conversation to end. 

“Jasoom?” She called quietly, pulling her eyes away from the elf. As if he had been waiting for her to summon him, he appeared around the corner and trotted over to her. Before Solas could do anything, she knelt down and picked him up. He reached out and Jules cradled the cat closer and turned slightly. 

“Does he not like to be touched?” He asked curiously. 

_I don’t want you to touch him._ She thought immediately. “He’ll come to you if he wants you to touch him.” She said instead, cautiously. 

“Do you know how old he is? When did he first come to you?” He continued to question, unperturbed by her discomfort. 

“I don’t know. After my first surgery.” She said simply. 

“When you were in pain? Scared?” Solas asked. Jasoom wriggled in her arms so she let him jump down and he immediately disappeared the way he’d come. 

“Yes-I-” She shook her head slightly. “Is there something else I can help you with? I don’t really like to talk about that.” Jules normally wouldn’t assert herself like that, but she desperately wanted out of this conversation. It didn’t matter what Jasoom was, or even how or why he’d come to her. 

“Of course, I apologize for prying. I just have one more question.” He said before falling silent.

After a few awkward moments, Jules prompted: “Yes?” 

“Has he ever been anything other than a common house cat?” His head was cocked to the side again slightly. 

“No.” Jules answered. 

“Interesting. Thank you for your time, Miss Trevelyan.” He nodded politely and simply turned and walked away. Jules watched him, perplexed. For a moment, she couldn’t remember what she’d been going to do when he’d stopped her. She heard a soft pitter patter and looked down the corridor to find Jasoom trotting in her direction again. He stopped and turned, looking back at her with a flick of his tail. 

“Right, storage. Thanks, Jas.” She said with a smile, following the black cat back toward her destination. 

\-----

“I don’t much care for this idea.” Cassandra said, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“Do you not trust my judgement?” Leliana asked, one red brow raised. 

“Your judgement, yes. His…” She shook her head. “He is a spy, Leliana.” 

“As am I.” The Orlesian countered. “You only trust me because I am _your_ spy.” 

Cullen chuckled, looking between the two women. Cassandra’s narrowed gaze snapped to him and he shrugged slightly. His body language seemed to ask; _Is she wrong?_

“He has promised that he will only provide the information he needs to satisfy his superiors and that none of what he relays will put our operations, or people, in danger. He understands the threat of the Breach and on a personal level wishes to assist.” Leliana explained. 

“And what does he provide in exchange?” Cullen asked. 

“He will have access to Ben Hassrath reports from all over the galaxy. Additionally, he and his mercenary group, the Chargers, are well known as exceptional warriors.” Leliana said. “Our army is growing, however the experience of our recruits is almost non-existent. Their knowledge and experience would be invaluable.” 

“I certainly can’t argue with that.” Cullen shrugged, pulling a chair from the long table in the war room and taking a heavy seat. It was quite late and his duties as of late had left him little time to sleep. Some small part of him found that a small blessing. Sleep for him was rarely restful. “I think we should make contact.” He said finally. 

“As do I.” Leliana agreed. They both looked at Cassandra. After a moment she rolled her eyes and let out a disapproving growl. “Fine.” 

“Good.” Cullen said, rubbing his temples. “The Storm Coast is only a short detour from our route back to Haven. Can we retire now?” He asked wearily. 

“We should discuss what is going to happen with Miss Trevelyan.” Leliana said. “Sooner, rather than later.” 

Cullen looked up sharply, frowning. “In what capacity?” 

“She is, frankly, a liability.” The spymaster said bluntly. 

“She is our only chance of resolving this-this-disaster.” He said, unable to hide his annoyance. “If you think she would betray us-”

“You misunderstand. Her loyalty is not in question. Neither is her value.” Leliana cut in. “Her fragility is.”

“I have been thinking on that as well.” Cassandra added. “Her desire to assist and her courage are exceptional. However, she has no skill in a fight. She doesn’t even know how to defend herself.” The Seeker let out a heavy sigh. “The life that she was trained for-built for-” She said somewhat bitterly. “No longer applies. She needs to adapt and I believe that it is our responsibility to help her.” 

Cullen was reluctant to agree. It made his heart heavy to once again consider how much of her life they were going to turn upside down. “You are right.” He agreed finally. “We cannot always protect her. We all know how unpredictable even the smallest and well-planned battle can be.” 

“I believe we know someone who could be of assistance.” Leliana said, sitting across the table from Cullen.

“We?” 

She nodded, smiling slightly. “We both know powerful people from the Blight.” 

His brows furrowed. Did she mean the Hero of Ferelden? The woman had been one of his wards at the Circle on Kinloch Station when he had first become a Templar. “Briall? I don’t see how she could help. Jules isn’t a mage.” 

“Briall is married to the most successful assassin of this age.” Leliana pointed out. 

Cullen frowned. “I was not-” He hesitated. “Of a mind to remember Zevran.” 

“Do you speak of the Antivan Crow? What do they call him-The Black Shadow?” Cassandra asked. “That is indeed a powerful friend.” 

Cullen gave it some thought. “Well, she is very light on her feet. Methodical. Perhaps such training would benefit her. Do you think he would be willing to help?” 

“I have kept in touch with the Warden Commander and we are in luck, of sorts.” Leliana started cryptically. “Unfortunately, she is not able to assist. She must handle another crisis. It seems a Hero’s duty is never done.” 

Leliana had made the comment lightly, however it didn’t make Cullen feel any better about what they were doing to Jules’ future. 

“And the lucky part?” Cassandra prompted. 

“They are passing through Ferelden on their way from Antiva before she departs. They would be willing to meet us in Haven. Zevran has offered to stay for a period of three months to train Jules before he follows Briall.” Leliana told them. 

“I should have known that you’ve already arranged everything.” Cullen said with a sigh. “I don’t know if we should make any decisions. Jules should be a part of this conversation.” 

Leliana started to open her mouth but he held up his hand. “Tomorrow.” He said firmly. “It’s late and the woman just learned that she has a family. Time is of the essence but surely we can allow her to process for the night. Either way, we have to pick up your contact first.” 

She nodded in agreement. “Goodnight then.” 

Cullen rose gratefully and nodded to the two women. “Goodnight.” He liked to think that it was his bed that called to him, but it was something far different. 

\-----

Cullen wandered into the Officer’s Club. It was normally empty, but most assuredly so at this time of night. The crew wasn’t yet used to working as a unit, spending time together in the closeness of the Officer’s Club. He hadn’t been one to indulge in drink since his younger years. Some nights though, even knowing it wouldn’t help, he felt desperate enough to try. He really needed a hobby, some sort of distraction for when…

“First Commander.” The voice sounded as startled as he was. He spun and found Jules sitting at the corner table near the door that he’d just walked through. He must be tired if he didn’t notice her.

“Maker’s breath,” He muttered quietly, his heart returning to its normal pace. “Jules, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.” She shrugged dismissively. Oh, right. She was used to that. “Having trouble sleeping?” He asked. 

“Yes, but it isn’t all that unusual for me.” She picked at her nails, avoiding his eyes. 

“Funny, it’s pretty common for me too.” He laid a hand on the back of the chair across from her. “May I join you?” 

She looked up at him for a brief moment. “Whatever you’d like, First Commander.” She said softly. 

His smile faltered. “Jules, I would like it if you would call me Cullen. First Commander is my title, but I’m not _your_ First Commander. No one is in charge of you any more. If you would rather sit alone, you only need to say so.” 

“I-uh-” She stuttered, looking down again. He couldn’t help but notice when she bit her lip nervously. Why would he notice that of all things? She gestured toward the seat. “Sure...Cullen.” 

He smiled and settled into the chair. “How are you and Morgan settling into your new quarters?” 

“Morgan went to bed hours ago. He seems pretty comfortable. He’s pretty impressed with _The Herald_.” She said. “I’m-well-” She shook her head slightly. “I’m not used to having my own room. It’s so…” She couldn’t seem to find the word she wanted. 

“Quiet?” He supplied. She nodded slightly, her mismatched eyes briefly meeting his. “I had the same problem when I first moved out of the barracks.” He chuckled. “You’re used to a certain amount of noise, even in the middle of the night.”

“Do you get used to it?” She asked curiously. 

“No.” He didn’t want to lie to her. “I haven’t anyway.” But he didn’t want to leave her completely without hope. “I-” Cullen hesitated. “I have nightmares. Often. I don’t find myself sleeping comfortably anywhere.” 

“I’m sorry.” She said it softly and in a tone that made him look up at her again. He almost sucked in a breath to find her looking into his eyes with a sadness that she didn’t, or maybe couldn’t, hide. “Does it help to sleep with someone?” 

Cullen almost choked. He rubbed the back of his neck while he composed himself. Surely, she didn’t mean…

“So they can be there to wake you from your nightmares?” She clarified. A rush of heat flushed his cheeks Of course she wasn’t asking…

“Uh, no. I mean, I don’t know. I’ve never trusted anyone enough to sleep with-er-near me like that.” He said. She seemed to notice his discomfort and he saw her start to withdraw again. To continue to hide it, he cleared his throat and shifted in his chair. He saw understanding in her eyes before they darted away from his again. 

He cleared his throat for the second time in as many minutes. “How are you feeling? You’ve been through an incredible amount in the last week.” 

“I’m getting tired of being asked how I am.” She said bluntly. 

“Oh, of course, I’m sorry.” He stammered immediately. 

She looked up quickly. “No, not you. I just mean-well-people don’t usually ask how I am. Or talk to me in general. I’m not upset “tired” just, actually tired “tired”. I think I’ve talked more in the last few days than the last few years combined.” She clarified. 

“And, so many people say things or reference things I don’t understand. I have almost an entire century of history to catch up on but I can’t even catch up on my own life. The war we were waging is over, I missed an entire Blight and the mages and Templars are _not_ getting along.” She blushed when Cullen chuckled at her flowery choice of wording. 

“To put it mildly.” He smiled.

“Not to mention _this.”_ She said, lifting her green, glowing hand slightly. 

Cullen found that he had a great desire to take her hand and grip it tightly. To offer comfort wherever he could. Instead, he just offered words. “You won’t be alone.” He promised. 

The way she looked at him broke his heart. She looked like she wanted to believe him, desperately, but was just shy of it. He took a chance and reached across the table to lay his hand over hers. Not gripping, just touching. Human touch spoke volumes. “I swear it.” He said, making sure she could see the truth of it in his eyes. 

He was surprised that she didn’t pull away from him. He pulled his hand away before he pushed his luck. Cullen was graced with the barest of smiles. Just a slight upturn of the corner of her lips. Maker, her smile must be beautiful. 

Jasoom jumped up onto the table between them. He startled Cullen who sat back in the chair with a jolt. The cat didn’t seem to notice, standing on the edge of the table to rub his head against Cullen’s shoulder and the fur of his lapels. 

Once again Jules was shocked at his behavior. Then, the epiphany hit her. All of the people that Jasoom had shown himself to and chosen to interact with were the same people she found she was able to open up with. Let down her walls with, even if it was just a few inches. 

Cullen chuckled and looked at her questioningly. She nodded and gave him a bigger smile which he mirrored. He started to scratch under the cat’s chin which he raised to expose his chest. “I’m normally more of a dog person, but this guy is growing on me.” 

Jasoom started to purr loudly, the very end of his tail flicking. “He likes you too.” She told him, if it wasn’t clear. Eventually, he crossed the table to Jules and hopped up onto her shoulder. 

“We should both try and get some sleep. Can I walk you back to your room?” He asked gently. He stood and offered her his arm.

She bit her lip again and he noticed her shoulder lift and drop in short motions. He was about to retract the offer when she stood with a decisive nod. 

“Most people come here for a drink.” She said, slipping her arm through his. “I hope I didn’t distract you from your plans.” 

“I found something better than a drink.” He said with a smile. 

\-----

“Jules.” She woke with a start at the sound of her own name ringing in her head. “We’re approaching the Storm Coast if you’d like to join us in Control.” Cassandra offered. 

She bolted up in bed, panic setting her heart racing when she didn’t recognize her surroundings. Thanks to her right eye, she was able to see her surroundings in the darkness and came to realize that she was in her new quarters. 

“Uh, yes. I’ll-I’ll be right there.” She said, hoping the Seeker couldn’t hear the receding panic in her voice. 

The lights brightened at her thought and she threw off the covers. She didn’t remember having any nightmares, but her bed was a tangled mass of linens that suggested her sleep was fitful. She scrubbed a hand over her face and was immediately reminded of the mark as green light pushed through her eyelids. 

She dressed quickly in the same clothes as the previous day. The red-head’s contact had asked to meet her directly and it was either that or a jumpsuit. She didn’t think the latter would inspire confidence. She didn’t even glance in the mirror before she left her quarters. 

Jules was starting to get used to the faces of the people she passed in the corridors. Even more so with those who worked in Control. They all smiled politely at her and she nodded in return. 

The Inquisition’s advisors all greeted her by name. Cassandra motioned out the broad portal and at the planet that was approaching. “We’re having a hard time getting any information. We know that the Chargers are planet-side, however it seems that there may be another vessel as well.” 

She walked to the control panel that Cullen stood behind. She touched it gently and a swirling grey mass on the planet was highlighted on the portal. 

“We were actually sent here a lot. The northern hemisphere is habitable, but the southern hemisphere is almost always covered in storm cells that are constantly joining and separating. Hence the constant rain. They don’t join into one supercell often, but when they do the charge in the atmosphere blocks the sensors.” Jules explained. 

“May I?” Jules asked, looking up at Cullen. He nodded and stepped aside so that she could take over the console. Her fingers flew over it. After a few moments, she nodded. “There’s at least one Tevinter ship on the other side of the planet.” 

“How do you know that?” Cullen asked, incredulous. 

“The fuel that comes out of the Tevinter Imperium is tainted with veridium. Their system is riddled with it. It was why their space program had such a hard time getting off the ground. By the time they realized their problem, they couldn’t figure out how to remove the veridium without completely reinventing their technology. They’d been building around it without knowing it.” She said absently. “Apparently they still haven’t fixed the issue.” 

“How did you know _that?”_ Cassandra asked. How did they _not_ know that? 

Jules shrugged. “It’s something we learned the hard way. The Imperium doesn’t exactly want that to be common knowledge I’m sure. Veridium is susceptible to electric charges, even in trace amounts. With enough research I’m sure someone could figure out how to bring the Imperium to its knees. The fact that they’re still assuming no one knows and haven’t tried to fix it is… well… very Tevinter, I suppose.” 

“They’re probably planet side.” She commented. “But we won’t know for sure until we get to the other side.”

“We’re going in blind?” Cassandra asked, sounding less than pleased.

“Unless they can get through that storm, they won’t be able to see us coming. We’ll have the element of surprise.” She pointed out. “We can take a shuttle and fly in the upper atmosphere over the storm. As long as the Chargers are where they said they would be, we won’t be detectable until the last moment. But-” She glanced up at Cassandra. “It’s going to be a rough ride.” 

“I can get us there.” The Seeker said, the epitome of confidence. 

“I’ll remain here in case there are more Tevinter ships on the way.” Cullen said. He looked at Jules, his gaze intense. “You stay close to Morgan and Cassandra.” 

“I will.” She assured him. 

He nodded, somewhat satisfied. “Stay safe.” Even with her promise to keep with the two warriors, his heart clenched as he watched her go.

\-----

Jules had known that it would be a rough ride. She’d told them it would. But feeling it was extremely different. There was a sense of safety on _the Herald_ , even in the roughest re-entries. That in itself was a rare occurrence so she was wholly unprepared for this trip. 

Cassandra struggled with the controls as the yoke jerked from side to side. The straps holding Jules down bit painfully into her shoulders and she gripped them with white knuckles. Every once in a while, the engines would rev with a power spike from the storm and the Seeker would struggle to keep the shuttle from nose-diving directly into the storm itself. That was a descent, Jules realized, that they would not survive. 

Eventually, the turbulence lessened and they left the storm behind. They passed under gloomy, but unthreatening rainclouds to find the coast of the only continent on the planet. As many times as _The Herald_ had been to the Storm Coast, she’d never seen it. It was hard for her to imagine the vastness of the ocean that seemed to go on forever.

It was so different from the infinity of space. That was nothing. This was matter. Billions of gallons of it. It was amazing. More than that, it was also falling from the sky, hitting the shield and roof of the shuttle in little taps.

It became more surreal when they landed and the engines shut off. There was nothing but the pounding rain. The ramp lowered and the smell of damp earth hit her. She closed her eyes and inhaled. It was so incredibly…..nostalgic. Cassandra walked past her and out into the rain, but Morgan stopped at her side. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, concerned. She wasn’t sure why. She just stared out into the rain, letting the moist air fill her lungs. “Jules?” He prompted when she didn’t answer. She didn’t mean to ignore him, she just felt….something. 

She looked up at him. “You look like you’re going to cry.” He said it quietly so that they wouldn’t attract the Seeker’s attention. 

She swallowed hard and nodded. “I’m okay. I just-I don’t remember the last time I saw, heard or smelled rain. I don’t know why it’s hitting me so hard.” 

“It rains a lot on the estate. It’s probably something your mind is trying to remember from your childhood.” He offered the suggestion and she clung to it. A piece of her childhood. A memory that triggered happiness and contentment instead of fear and pain. 

“We need to go.” She pointed out. “The Chargers may need us.” He put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. 

She walked with him into the rain. It was warmer than she expected and she liked the sensation of it falling on her skin. They walked toward a cliff and it looked like years of flooding and running water had worn a slim path down to the rocky coast. As they descended, they could hear the sounds of a fight echoing off the sheer walls. 

Morgan grabbed her arm gently to stop her. “You stay here in the path until one of us comes to get you.” He pressed a pistol into her hand. “If it isn’t me or Cass that comes around that corner you do what you have to to get back to the shuttle and to _The Herald_. Understand?” 

Jules nodded gravely. “Be careful, Morgan.” She almost couldn’t get it out, her voice quivering. 

He gave her a winning smile. “Don’t worry about me, _Zia_.” 

She could hear the fighting grow more intense with the addition of the two warriors. Screams of wounded and dying were almost completely foreign to her. She winced and tried to focus on the tapping of rain on her skin and the sound of crashing waves on the rocks. If she listened hard enough, she could pick out the far distant rumbling of thunder. 

“Jules!” Morgan’s baritone cut into the thunder and echoed off the walls of the path. “Come on out!” 

How long had she been standing there, gripping the pistol with white knuckles? She wasn’t even holding it in a way that would have made it easy to fire. Just gripping the barrel in one hand and the handle in the other. She didn’t want to look like a completely incompetant coward so she tucked it into the back of her pants the way Morgan had when he’d retrieved it for her. 

She stepped out onto the beach, avoiding bodies in both step and gaze. The rocky shore wasn’t as slippery as it looked. The constant storms must have kept too much algae from collecting on them. The man they were there to meet, The Iron Bull was, in a word, intimidating. 

She was tall for a woman. Morgan was tall for a man. The Iron Bull, even disregarding the extra height his horns allowed, was a giant. He easily broke past seven feet. His arms were like tree trunks and his chest was a massive brick wall. He was an immovable force. 

The toxic Vitaar that painted his grey skin didn’t seem to be bothered by either the rain or blood on his chest and arm. An eye patch covered one eye and she could only imagine there was a colorful story behind that. 

Yet, as physically intimidating as he was, his face and eye were both kind. He smiled warmly. “The time traveller!” He boomed. “You are one interesting lady, you know that?” He asked, sitting down on a rock. Even then, he was almost as tall as she was standing. 

“Miss Nightingale says that you're the one to hitch my wagon to if I wanna help with this Breach business. That true? You up for this?” He asked, his eye holding her gaze and making it impossible for her to look away. 

“I’m not much of a fighter,” She admitted. She couldn’t lie to him let alone withhold the truth. “But I’m going to do everything I can, including learning to fight.” 

She held out her palm slightly to him and he reached out to take it, examining the anchor. His touch was light and warm. “I have this for a reason, even I don’t know why. I can’t ignore the responsibility I have.” 

He nodded and released her hand, seemingly pleased with her answer. “Good enough for me.” He turned, glancing over the gathering of his men who were now tucking into drinks. The rain didn’t seem to bother any of them at all. “Krem! Come’ere!” His voice boomed, putting the crashing waves to shame. 

A young man set down his tankard on a barrel of ale and walked over. “Yeah, Chief?”

“How’d we fair?” Bull asked.

“Few injuries, no fatalities. Nothing Stitches can’t handle. You know, except all the Vints, minus myself.” He reported. 

“Would you kindly tell the ladies and gentlemen how many we have in our fine company?” Bull requested. 

“Seven, ma’ams and sir.” Krem replied without hesitation. 

“How many Vints did we dispatch, with help, of course?” Bull was grinning at Jules. He was proud of his company and it showed. 

“Eighteen. I think a couple aren’t quite ‘dispatched’ all the way, but they will be soon.” He assured The Iron Bull. 

“And should these fine representatives of the Inquisition and the Herald of Andraste herself hire us?” He asked. 

“You’d be stupid not to ma’ams and sir.” Krem declared. “You get what you pay for and we’re the best.” He added emphatically. 

Bull waved a hand dismissively. “The money will work itself out.” He promised. “The point is, you get me, you get the team and you get Ben Hassrath training. _That_ you can’t buy.” 

Jules looked at Cassandra for direction but the woman just shrugged. “Up to you.” She looked around at the bodies on the shore. The Chargers had stood alone against a force over twice their size. Morgan and Cassandra had helped but it looked to her like they would have been fine on their own. 

She looked back at Bull and his second, nodding. She was being left to make her first independent decision. It seemed easy but she hoped it was the right one regardless. 

She held out her hand for him. “Welcome to the Inquisition.” 

He gripped it tightly and shook. “Thanks, Boss.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading to the end! Not too much action but hopefully still entertaining. 
> 
> I hope someone is excited for Zevran and Briall because I'm flippin' psyched! If you've read their stories they're gonna be exactly same. 
> 
> I adore all your comments, even the incoherent ones! You can find me on Tumblr: jacklyn-flynn  
> Every Sunday me and some other writers you might know get together a co-op an episode for a Cullen x reader modern AU called Private Sessions. You can also find it on AO3 if you don't want to read while we go! (NSFW)  
> Kemvee  
> Charlatron  
> Kittimau  
> Myfantasyocs  
> Thejeeperswife


	5. Fragments of the Past

Jules stared at the chest sitting on the small table in her quarters. It had been there for a few days but she hadn’t been ready to open it. It wasn’t very large, but it was beautiful. Red cedar with a bronze placard embossed with her full name, half of which she’d forgotten. 

  


_ Jules Katherine Rose Trevelyan. _

  


It was time to open it. The more people treated her like a  _ person _ , the more she wanted to be one. People had pasts.  _ She  _ had a past. If anything was going to trigger those memories, it was probably in that chest. 

  


She unlatched the lid and lifted it. On the very top of the small collection of pictures and trinkets was a folded up, yellowed letter. She unfolded it with shaking hands. 

  


_ Jules, _

  


_ I have lived a long and full life. I have only one regret; that I was never able to find and share that life with my baby sister. I have prayed to any god who would listen. I have bribed and bartered for information for decades. I have done things that I am not proud of to find you but I would do it all again regardless.  _

  


_ But I am tired and old and my time is short. I can’t look for you anymore but your nephew, Aine, will continue the search. He has known you all of his life. As long as he lives, as long as any Trevelyan lives, you will not be a forgotten part of our family. _

  


An unexpected sob tore from her throat and she covered her mouth with her hand in a futile attempt to hold it back. All of her life she’d thought she was alone. Forgotten. Maybe even unwanted. The whole time someone had been looking for her.  _ Wanted _ her.

  


_ I have filled this box with remnants of our childhood and pieces of our family history that you have missed. Drawings my son has made for you. Pictures. Sketches of what I thought you may look like. I hope you’re old and wrinkled and as satisfied with your life as I am with mine. That is all that gives me comfort, the thought of you, content.  _

  


_ With all my love,  _

  


_ Morgan _

  


Jules set down the letter on the table beside the chest. She peered into the chest and took out the top two items. They were both flat, oval-shaped rocks. The first was made of black slate, clearly ground down to the oval shape. It had an “M” carved into one side. The other was a black and white speckled rock, naturally rounded. There was a jagged “J” that had been carved into one side with an unsteady hand. 

  


She held the speckled one in the palm of her hand, tracing the “J”. She picked at the loose thread of a specific memory, trying to snatch it to the forefront of her mind. She recognized these, she was sure. Yet, though she was reaching for that memory, she wasn’t entirely prepared when it hit her. 

  


\-----

  


_ “Moron! You’re going too fast!” Jules called out, weaving through the garden path. She could only catch glimpses of her brother’s feet in front of her. She burst out of the maze and found her older brother glaring.  _

  


_ “I’m not too fast, you’re too slow. And stop calling me that, Jules. You’re seven. You can pronounce my name right.” He griped.  _

  


_ “I know. But it’s funny ‘cause it makes you angry.” She grinned back at him. She shouldn’t try her luck. He was four years older than she was and had absolutely no reason to let her tag along.  _

  


_ “Ugh, do you have your rock?” He asked, clearly exasperated. She held it out proudly. “How did you put your “J” on it?” _

  


_ “Papa’s knife,” Jules said simply.  _

  


_ Morgan laughed. “You’re lucky you didn’t cut yourself. Roll your pants up or Mama’ll give us an ear full.”  _

  


_ The two rolled their pants up past their knees and walked to the edge of the large reflecting pool. It was only ten feet wide, but over 50 feet long. Morgan hopped into the pool and then helped Jules in as well. She wasn’t quite tall enough and the water soaked into her rolled-up pants.  _

  


_ “Do you remember how to hold it?” Morgan asked, gripping his own rock of choice. Jules nodded enthusiastically and emulated his hold. “Do you remember the angle?” She nodded again and bent, showing him her stance. “Okay, remember to release it before you finish your swing or it’ll shoot off to the side.”  _

  


_ “Okay.” She took a deep, dramatic breath and then with a grunt, hucked the rock with all of her strength. It sliced into the water and immediately sunk. Morgan threw his rock and it skipped several times before hitting the wall of the pool and sinking as well. “No fair! How do you do that?!” She cried, throwing her hands up.  _

  


_ “Practice.” He said, wading through the water toward his rock. Jules pushed up her sleeve and reached into the water to retrieve hers. Morgan joined her at the end of the pool again. “Watch how I do it, okay?”  _

  


_ Morgan pulled back his arm and then threw his rock. It skipped again, this time straight down the middle of the pool for about fifteen feet. Jules nodded and imitated her brother, pulling her arm back and then throwing the rock. It only skipped three times before sinking below the water.  _

  


_ She jumped up with a shout and grabbed Morgan’s arm. “It skipped!”  _

  


_ “Yeah, like twice.” Morgan scoffed.  _

  


_ “Three times!” She cried. “I counted them! But it didn’t get very far. How does Papa skip it all the way to the end?” _

  


_ They retrieved their rocks and stood at the front of the pool again. “He practices,” Morgan said with a shrug.  _

  


_ “Do you think I can do it if I practice enough, even though I’m a girl?” She asked, watching him adjust his stance for the next throw.  _

  


_ He paused and looked over at her, face screwed up. “What does being a girl have to do with it?” He let the rock go and it skipped further again than the last time.  _

  


_ “Elin said that boys do things gooder than girls because we’re not as strong or smart.” She told him.  _

  


_ “Better, not ‘gooder’, Jules.” He corrected absently. “And Elin is a fucking idiot. You shouldn’t listen to him. There are some things girls can do that boys can’t and some things that boys can but girls can’t.” He explained. “But don’t let idiots tell you what you should do. You can do whatever you want.”  _

  


_ Jules giggled at her brother’s expletive. “You think so?” She asked, pulling back her arm and throwing the rock.  _

  


_ “Heck, yeah. You’re a Trevelyan. We’re badass.”  _

  


_ \----- _

  


Cullen lifted his eyelids with supreme effort. He had been in a deep, dreamless sleep which was so rare and precious. For a moment, he thought the crying he heard might have actually been a nightmare. As his mind struggled to rouse, he realized it was coming from his comms. He sat up, rubbing a hand through his hair.

  


“Hello? Who is that?” He asked into the darkness of his room. Though no one answered with words, the crying continued. 

  


He slipped from the bed and grabbed a white undershirt, pulling it on as he left his room. He suspected he knew the source of the sobbing and made his way quickly to Jules’ door. He tapped the panel to signal that he was there. When there was no answer, but the crying continued through his comms, he thought perhaps he was mistaken on its origin. He felt pressure against his ankle and looked down to find Jasoom weaving through his feet. Sitting down between Cullen and the door, he looked up and yowled. Immediately more concerned, he pounded on the door with his fist. “Jules! Are you okay?” He called, heedless of anyone sleeping around them.

  


His comms immediately went silent. Her door slid open and a red-eyed Jules stared at him in a panic. “I’m so sorry!” She blurted. “I didn’t know I’d opened my comms.” She gasped, still in the throes of her sobbing. “I’m so sorry. It won’t-” She drew in a shaking breath. “It won’t happen again, I promise.” 

  


“It’s alright.” He said, distracted by her distress. “I’m not angry. I-are you okay?” He almost took a step forward, glancing down at the clear line of the doorway. “Can I come in?” He asked gently. “Please?” 

  


The last seemed to change something in her, or perhaps in her perception of him. She nodded quickly and he saw that she clutched something to her chest. He walked in, tapping the panel to close the door behind him. 

  


“Are you okay?” He asked again, not having gotten an answer the last time. She shook her head slightly, another sob making her chest heave. “Tell me what you need.” He urged her. “How can I help? If you can’t tell me, then show me.” He implored. His heart ached at her distress. 

  


He’d mostly expected her to ask him to leave. Maybe just sit with her. What he didn’t expect was for her to throw herself into his arms. It was rather alarming, given her aversion to personal contact. That her level of pain was so intense that she  _ craved _ contact made his chest tighten. 

  


Cullen wrapped his arms around her, tucking her head under his chin. He could already feel the front of his shirt growing wet. “It’s okay, you aren’t alone. I’m here.” He whispered gently, his hand stroking her back. He wasn’t sure what else to do so he just stood there with her. 

  


Eventually, her sobs devolved into gasps and sniffles. “I’m so sorry.” She whispered against his wet chest. 

  


“No. No need to be sorry. Really.” He murmured, running a hand over her hair. “Take as long as you need.” He stood with her for a while longer until she gently disengaged herself from him. She wiped at her eyes with one hand. They were red and raw, her cheeks wet with tears. “Do you want to talk about it?” He asked gently. 

  


She hesitated. “I-It’s-It’s just that my brother would be so disappointed in me,” Jules admitted, drawing in another ragged breath. 

  


“Come on, let’s sit down.” He rested his hand on the small of her back and guided her to the bed. They sat side by side and he drew one leg up so that he could turn and face her. “What makes you think your brother would be disappointed in you?” He asked, sounding skeptical at the idea. 

  


“Because I forgot about him.” She admitted in a whisper. “He was my best friend and I forgot all about him.” 

  


“Jules,” He said gently, taking her hand. She was still gripping something else tightly in her other hand. “He would not be disappointed in you.” He promised her. “You were so young and you went through so much. You did what you had to do to survive and it seems like part of that was to let go of the things that would have kept you from being able to function mentally or emotionally. If you dwelled, you would have been lost. So you did what you had to do. Your brother would not have been upset with you.”

  


“How do you know?” She looked up at him, her mismatched eyes despondent. 

  


Cullen squeezed her hand gently. “After I became a full-fledged Templar I was assigned to the Kinloch Station Circle. The Circle was overrun by abominations and demons. I was taken and tortured. Denied food, water and lyrium for…” He shook his head. “I don’t really know for how long. A demon invaded my mind and showed me my deepest desires to tempt me into giving it possession of my body. I almost succumbed.” 

  


He found it much easier to say than he thought he would. He had told very few people about his torture at Kinloch. Somehow, opening up to another broken person felt like less of a risk. That telling her his story would help heal them both. 

  


“I was not the same after that. Not myself. I was angry and bitter. Cruel even. I did many things I’m incredibly ashamed of. I’d like to think that I’m atoning for that now with the Inquisition. That I can be a better man. One of the things that helped me with that was my family.” He explained. 

  


Jules continued to watch him with rapt attention. Her breathing had steadied and tears no longer fell down her cheeks. “I was sure they would treat me differently. At worst, never speak to me again. Even after all of that, after isolating myself from them for years, when I saw them again there was nothing but love and acceptance. Even knowing the terrible things that I endured and did, they loved me. They helped me find the person that I had lost. I know-I  _ know _ -” He emphasized, squeezing her hand. “That your brother would not think less of you. He loved you, unfailingly, to his last breath. I promise you.” 

  


She looked down, brows furrowing. Cullen curled a finger and brought it under her chin, urging her to look up at him again. “I know what you’re thinking.” His hand moved to cup her cheek. “You  _ are _ worth it. I’ll help you see that.” He promised her before smiling slightly and pulling back his hand. “Morgan will too.” 

  


“Thank you,” Jules said so quietly he almost didn’t hear her. “For telling me that. That must have been hard. It’s good to know that someone can come back from….things.” 

  


“I’m trying, anyway.” Cullen chuckled. 

  


Jules sniffed again and wiped her cheek. “I’m sorry I woke you. I’ll be okay.” 

  


“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay a little longer?” He asked, squeezing her hand. 

  


“You wouldn’t mind?” She asked meekly, secretly hoping he wouldn’t. 

  


“I wouldn’t have offered otherwise,” Cullen assured her. “I’ll stay as long as you need me to.” 

  


“Thank you, Cullen.” She sat a little closer to him. 

  


“You’re welcome, Jules.” He replied, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. 

  


\-----

  


Jules waited nervously for the Hero of Ferelden’s ship to dock with  _ The Herald _ . She’d spent some time researching the fifth blight and learning about Briall and her companions. One of them had been Leliana, who had apparently not always been so stern and hard-faced. 

  


The Hero’s story reminded her a bit of her own. Sheltered and unskilled for war, but thrown into the position of ultimate responsibility. She only hoped that she would handle it with as much grace and confidence as Briall had. And with the same level of success.

  


The hiss of pressurization brought her back to the present. The door slid open and two elves stepped onto  _ The Herald _ . The first was shorter and slim. She had bright orange-red hair that was intricately braided and fell down her back past her waist. Her bright green eyes sparkled with her genuine smile. 

  


The second elf, a man, was quite a bit taller. He had blonde hair that fell to his shoulders and his amber eyes were warm, invoking a sense of trust. He had a tattoo along the left side of his face, three lines of different lengths that curved around his eye and then down his cheek. 

  


Jules swallowed her fears and took a step forward, offering her hand to the woman. “You must be Mr. and Mrs. Arainai. Welcome aboard  _ The Herald _ .” 

  


“Please, Briall and Zevran.” The woman, the  _ Hero of Ferelden, _ took her hand and shook firmly. 

  


Zevran stepped forward and took her hand. Instead of shaking it, he turned it and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of her fingers gently. “We have heard much about you,  _ passerotta _ .” He purred, amusement clear in his amber eyes. “It is such an honor to teach one such as yourself.” 

  


Jules wasn’t sure about all that, but she smiled anyway. “I appreciate you taking the time to help me, especially since it separates you from your wife.” 

  


Zevran straightened and Briall stepped up beside him, smiling. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her tight against him. “My  _ tesoro _ is quite capable of handling herself. I shall suffer in her absence but delight in our reunion.” 

  


Briall’s gaze shifted to Cullen and her smile widened. “Cullen! It’s been so long!” She walked over to him and hugged him. Jules felt a weird sensation in her chest watching the way he smiled and enveloped the woman in his arms. She pulled back, holding him at arm's length with her hands on his shoulders. 

  


“Not since you passed through Kirkwall. Again, you didn’t catch me at my best.” He said with an unamused laugh. 

  


“You seem to be back on track now.” She said, letting her hands fall. “It’s really good to see you. You were one of the few good memories I have of my time in the Circle. Despite how it ended.” 

  


Jules’ heart ached. He had just told her last night about his time at Kinloch Station. She had read about the Hero and her companions going through the station and disposing of the demons and abominations. She realized with a twinge in her heart that Briall must have been the one to free him. 

  


“I feel the same about you,” Cullen admitted. “If you’d follow me, I’ll show you your accommodations and give you a tour of the rest of the ship. Leliana is also aboard and quite excited to see you.” He told her. 

  


“Sounds wonderful. Zev, are you coming?” She asked, looking back at her husband. 

  


“I would very much like to stay with Jules to get to know her. Our time together is limited and I have much to teach her.” He stepped forward to cup Briall’s face in his hands and kissed her tenderly. When he pulled away, the wistful look on the Hero’s face made Jules smile. “I shall see you soon,  _ mi amore _ .  _ Ti amo.”  _

  


“I love you too.” She said softly. “Lead the way!” She said to Cullen who offered her his elbow. She slipped her arm through his and they left the hangar together. 

  


Zevran did the same for her and she slipped her arm through his. “Are you jealous of Cullen?” Jules asked before she could think better of it. 

  


“What an odd question.” Zevran mused. 

  


“I’m so sorry.” Jules back-tracked. “I’m not very well versed in social etiquette. You don’t have to answer that. I just-I don’t know. I feel very comfortable with you. I’m not like that with most people.” And it was true. Something about Zevran felt comfortable. She couldn’t explain it any other way than that he didn’t drain her like some people. 

  


Zevran chuckled, letting Jules lead him through the corridors with subtle movements. “Quite alright,  _ passerotta _ . We have been told of your unusual circumstances and I am quite hard to offend and nearly impossible to embarrass. People often trust me with their life story. It has helped greatly in my career as an assassin.” 

  


“To answer your question; I am jealous of Cullen. But, I think it is okay to be jealous, even if you trust the person. It is not about trust, necessarily. It is not because I don't trust either of them, but because they have a part of each other's lives that I simply cannot share. It is a primal and unavoidable symptom of true love. You can be jealous but when you start to doubt that person's love, it is a road from which few ever truly return.”

  


Jules thought about it for a moment. “That makes a lot of sense. Do you think Briall will be jealous of us?” 

  


“Undoubtedly.” He said simply. “She knows the type of training we are about to embark upon and that it involves a great level of physical contact. But, her love is unwavering and she knows that I am only for her.”

  


“That must be really nice. To have someone love you so much.” Jules mused. 

  


“It is indeed,” Zevran confirmed. “I could not help but notice that the First Commander has quite a warm twinkle in his eye when he sees you.” 

  


That surprised her so much she stopped walking. “He does?” 

  


He chuckled. “Oh yes. You can trust that Zevran knows well the signs of attraction and affection.” 

  


“Oh.” She said, moving forward again. 

  


“Does that bother you?” He asked gently. 

  


“No.” She didn’t hesitate in her answer. “It’s just...I don’t think anyone has ever felt that way about me.” 

  


“Do you feel affection for him?” Zevran continued. 

  


“I don’t know. I think so.” She admitted. “I’m happy when I see him.” 

  


“That is, indeed, affection. Perhaps even attraction.” He assured her. 

  


“What do I do about it?” Jules asked curiously. 

  


“Whatever feels right. There is no manual or class that can tell you what to do. Love, I have learned, happens at its own pace, in its own way.” He told her. 

  


“Love?” She asked, slightly taken aback. 

  


“It is a possibility when affection and attraction are involved.” He told her. “But not a requirement.” 

  


“Do you think someone could love me?” She sounded curious. 

  


“Well, I only know of your circumstances, not of you as a person. Ask me again when our three months have expired.” He chuckled. 

  


\-----

  


Jules got her hands beneath her before her face hit the mat with the full force of her body weight. She had to drop the training daggers to do so, though she’d been told not to several times.  _ Lose your weapons, lose your life. _ Her cheek still hit hard and she suspected, as she stood back up rubbing it, that it might bruise before morning. 

  


Zevran opened his mouth, but she held up her hand quickly. “I know. I know. Learn to fall. Don’t let go.” She said with a sigh. “I  _ know _ it. I just can’t seem to do it.” 

  


“You are doing better than you think,  _ passerotta. _ ” He assured her. “You learn quickly, in mind and body. It is hard to train your muscles and instincts to do things different from what they have done your entire life.” 

  


“You have speed and flexibility and great control over both. I did not come into this with any expectations of our time together. Now, I am quite confident that I will be able to leave you and worry not for your safety.” He pointed one of the wooden daggers he was holding at her. “You,  _ bella _ , will be formidable. Strong, beautiful and formidable.” The flirting and grinning had taken her a few days to get used to. 

  


The unsocialized part of her brain couldn’t reconcile that with his apparent love for his wife. Bull, another frequent flyer at the gym, had explained one night that it was nothing personal. It was simply his way of interacting with the world. Zevran had no filter. If a thing or a person was beautiful, he would say so. It didn’t mean attraction. He knew that, Bull explained, because he was much the same way.

  


Perhaps that’s what she liked about the two men. Much like her, they said what they thought. The only difference was, they knew when to shut up. She hoped that they could teach her to do that as well. 

  


She’d even confided in Leliana. Though usually so brooding and aloof, Leliana had laughed at her. Jules had been worried she was presenting herself incorrectly or encouraging Zevran without meaning to. Leliana had assured Jules that was not the case. She spent a few hours regaling her with stories of the romance that was Briall and Zevran. Their story spanned a wide spectrum of emotions. By the end of their time together, she had an entirely new understanding of the Antivan assassin. The next time she saw him, she was no longer embarrassed or self-conscious and it helped considerably with her training. 

  


She also mused that it was probably helping her grow as a person as well. She found herself being more open with Zevran. She thought she might die of embarrassment the first time she swore in front of him. She had  _ never _ sworn in front of anyone before. Always in private. He had just laughed and, much to her surprise, taught her the word in Antivan. 

  


“ _ Passerotta _ , where have you gone?” Zevran asked, bringing her back to the present. “Are you thinking about the handsome, golden First Commander?” He asked with a grin that immediately set her cheeks on fire. 

  


“Actually, I was thinking about you.” She admitted. 

  


“I am flattered. Truly.” He chuckled. 

  


“I was thinking about how quickly I’ve come to-” She hesitated. “Well, how quickly I’ve come to consider you my friend. The first person, actually, that I’ve considered a true friend. Cullen maybe, I like Cassandra too but-” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, that’s silly. You don’t even know me.” 

  


“You would be surprised how much you can learn about a person in a week. I would dare to say I consider you a friend as well.” He admitted. “Let us take a break. I have something for you and now seems like a good time to present it. Let us shower and I shall meet you in the Officer’s Club?” 

  


Jules wiped her brow and nodded gratefully. Her aching muscles were grateful too. “See you there.” 

  


\-----

  


Zevran was already in the Officer’s Club when she entered. There was an elegant wooden case on the table in front of him and on top of that sat Jasoom. He was purring and preening as Zevran scratched behind his ears and under his chin. 

  


The deadly assassin was talking in low tones at the feline in Antivan. When he noticed Jules he smiled. “ _ Guarda, la tua bellissima mamma _ .”

  


Jasoom looked at her and meowed, his galactic blue eyes speaking volumes. She stood at the side of the table and scratched both of his cheeks at the same time. He purred all the louder and closed his eyes in bliss. 

  


When Jules stopped and sat down, he immediately stepped off the box to jump onto her shoulders. He settled around her neck, staring out at Zevran. The elf pushed the case to her side of the table, turning it so that the latch was facing her. 

  


She unfastened the brass catch and opened the box. The hinges were well oiled and silent. Nestled in plush, black velvet were two ornate daggers. The handles were made of blonde wood with beautiful bronze inlaid in an intricate pattern that reminded her of Dalish vallaslin. The pommels were also bronze, the ends stamped with a relief of a crow. The metal of the blades were folded, the layers rippling along the length. The edges looked deadly sharp, glinting in the fluorescent lights. 

  


“These,” Zevran started, reaching across the table to reverently lift one from its pillow of velvet. “Along with my family, got me through the Blight. They saved my life and the lives of my loved ones countless times. You will need all of the help that you can get and when I leave, this is the help I can offer. The part of me that I can leave behind.” 

  


“These are yours?” Jules asked, incredulous. “I can’t possibly take these from you.” 

  


Zevran chuckled and set the weapon back down. “You are not  _ taking  _ them. I am  _ giving  _ them to you.” Jules regarded him steadily, clearly perplexed. “No one has given you a gift before, have they?” He asked, smiling softly when she shook her head. “I would imagine that look is much the same look that I gave Briall when she gave me my first gift.”

  


“I did not understand the concept. I kept trying to get her to tell me what she wanted in return. She didn’t want anything. Just for me to be happy. And these, I know, will help keep you safe during the difficulties that are ahead of you. That makes me happy.” He told her. 

  


She wanted to reach out and touch them but hesitated as if some alarm would go off. Instead, Zevran picked one up again and held it out to her, the blade in one palm, handle in the other. “Please,  _ passerota. _ It would mean much to me.” 

  


She glanced up at him, brows furrowed. Eventually, she nodded and reached out with shaking hands to take the weapon from him. It was much lighter than it looked and perfectly balanced. It felt somehow right in her hand. The wood and metal were warm as if the dagger was alive. “Thank-” Her voice broke and the word came out in a quiet squeak. She took a moment to compose herself and looked up at him. “Thank you, Zevran. I promise I will take care of them and cherish them for the rest of my life. However long that may be.” 

  


“I know you will. That is why I have trusted you with them.” He assured her with a smile. “I have something else for you as well. A piece of advice.” 

  


She set the weapon back into the case with its mate and closed the lid, latching it carefully. “What’s that?” 

  


“Don’t wait.” He said simply. 

  


“For what?” Jules asked, confused. 

  


“For anything.” He stood, pushing his chair back in. “I am glad that you confided in me today, that you feel I am a friend. I know that was difficult for you. Both to understand those feelings and for you to express them. That’s why I would like to help you. Your affection for the handsome Commander is much more apparent to me after this last week, as is his for you. Yet, you are both hesitant. Understandable given your pasts.” 

  


He laid a hand on Jules’ shoulder, Jasoom’s tail flicking against his wrist. “I spent far too long focusing on the wrong things. I didn’t realize what I had in Briall. I nearly messed up and lost her forever. But, worse than losing her would have been never knowing her at all. Do not waste time, Jules.” 

  


His hand fell from her shoulder and the smile returned to his face. “I will see you bright and early in the morning. Until then,” He walked toward the door of the Officer’s Club until it opened. Cullen was standing off to the side, hands clasped in front of him. “I leave you in the Commander’s capable hands.” 

  


Cullen’s lips curved into a smile when he saw her, eyes brightening. He nodded to Zevran as he passed. Zevran clapped his shoulder. “Easy friend. Do not make her bolt.” 

  


Jules smiled nervously as Cullen sat down in the seat that Zevran had just vacated. “I haven’t seen you much. I wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

  


She smiled, feeling her cheeks warm. “Do you mean am I okay since my embarrassing breakdown?” 

  


Cullen chuckled. “Answer however feels right to you. I hope you know that I’m available to talk whenever you need or want. Breakdown or not.” 

  


“I think I’m doing okay. I haven’t gotten the courage up to dig out anything more from the chest. I feel like my training is going terribly, but Zevran says I’m doing well.” She looked down at the box that contained her present. “I feel like I’ve become a completely different person in the last month.” 

  


“Do you like that person?” Cullen asked curiously. “Are you happy with her?” 

  


Jules glanced up and found herself caught in his eyes, the corners wrinkled with his smile. “I am.” 

  


His smile widened and she found herself smiling back at her. “Good, I would really like to get to know-” 

  


“Commander, Jules.” Cassandra’s voice interrupted them. “We have a problem. Please meet us in the war room.” 

  


Cullen’s disappointment was clear. “It seems we will have to finish this conversation later.”

  


“I hope so.” She said softly. She stood, lifting the case gingerly. “I have to take these down to my room. I’ll meet you up there.” 

  


\-----

  


The tension was clear in the war room from the moment she walked in. Cullen’s smile was gone. Cassandra was scowling. She couldn’t read Leliana who was facing the window, looking out at the stars. 

  


“What’s wrong?” Jules asked, frowning. 

  


“The Chantry has put out an official communication to all planets in the system,” Cassandra told her. She picked up a pad so that she could read the declaration word for word. “Jules Trevelyan is a deserter and has been deemed a traitor to the Chantry for the theft of  _ the Herald  _ and the death of Chancellor Athen _.” _

  


“Deserter?” Jules asked, confused. “I’m not a Templar or a Seeker. I never was. I wasn’t even classified as a person. I’m not on the crew compliment list. And I didn’t kill anyone. I don’t know what happened to Chancellor Athen, or any of the crew.” 

  


“It would seem that your files have changed since I originally acquired them.” Leliana spoke up. “The Chantry has written up a lovely piece of fiction.” 

  


“We are lucky that the Ferelden government has not backed up the accusations. Leliana and Zevran both have weight with King Theirin so that likely isn’t forthcoming. He is supporting our cause unofficially. However, we will have to be very careful around planets that have a heavy Templar influence.” Cassandra added. 

  


“Aren’t they broken into factions? I thought that some had gone rogue to hunt mages?” Jules asked, sitting at the head of the table. 

  


“Even without following the orders of the Chantry the rogue Templars are dangerous.” Cullen explained. “Perhaps even more so.” 

  


“And yet you still support an alliance with them.” Cassandra said, perhaps a little bitterly. 

  


“Now is not the time for that argument.” Cullen deflected. 

  


“I think perhaps now is the best time for that argument.” Leliana cut in diplomatically. “We will have to choose one side or the other, and soon. With the Chantry against us, we need all the support we can garner.”

  


“I know that they’re on opposite sides, but is there a reason we can’t ally with and support both the apostate mages  _ and _ the Templars.” Jules asked. She almost didn’t, afraid that it would be a stupid question. Instead, the three advisors looked at each other. “Part of putting this all back together is solving the Mage-Templar problem, isn’t it?” She said that a little softer. 

  


“That is a good point.” Cullen allowed. “We could act as mediators for both. If we can convince them to help us with the Breach, that will give them common ground which could help with easing tensions between the two groups.” 

  


“Brilliant idea, Jules.” Leliana praised with a rare smile. Jules smiled in return, glad she’d spoken up. 

  


“We will have to tread carefully,” Cassandra added. “However, if we can make it work it would be invaluable to our cause.” 

  


“I’ll set up the meetings.” Leliana promised. 

  


“We’ve been relatively unknown up to this point. With the Chantry’s charges against you and inserting ourselves into the Mage-Templar dispute, that is going to change. It’s only going to get harder from here.” Cullen warned. 

  


“That’s okay.” Jules assured him. “I’ve been doing a lot of things lately I thought I couldn’t do, or would ever  _ need _ to do. Everything is still terrifying, but I can’t stop now. I’m kind of getting used to it.” She smiled at the three advisors. 

  


“I’m a completely different person and I love who I’m becoming. I have you all to thank for that. I would follow you to hell and back for helping me remember I’m a person too.” She said, feeling the sting of tears in her eyes. 

  


“We will be by your side every step of the way.” Cassandra promised her. 

  


Cullen nodded in agreement. “To hell and back.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:   
> Bella=Beautiful  
> Passerota= You have to wait. It’s a surprise!   
> Guarda, la tua bellissima mamma=Look, your beautiful mother.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and being so patient with these updates! I hope you all love my Zevran. I just adore him and knew he would have to be in here somewhere. 
> 
> Kudos make me smile. Comments make my day. (Shameless)


	6. Settling In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jules, Jasoom and her new companions all start to fall into a new routine. Also, Bull helps her realize her feelings for Cullen and they...
> 
> You have to read it to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a nightmare sequence of non-consent and trauma in this chapter. If you would still like to read but avoid that part, I have put it between < Trigger Warning > and < Trigger Warning End >. It's a very short segment but feel free to ctrl+f to skip it. 
> 
> Please, take care of yourself and your mental health!

“Have you ever been in love?” Jules asked suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere. 

Morgan looked up from his meal, one brow raised in question. “No, why? Have you been in love?” He countered. 

Her brows furrowed, something she did a lot he’d noticed. She spent a lot of time in her own head. “I don’t think so.” She didn’t sound completely sure. “Do you want kids?” She asked, looking back up at him. 

Morgan set down his fork. “Maybe. What brought this up?” 

Jules set down her fork as well and pushed her plate away slightly. “I was reading through some stuff that Morgan-my Morgan-I mean my  _ brother _ Morgan, not that you aren’t my-” 

“J,” He laughed. “Spit it out.” 

She cleared her throat. “I was reading through some things that Morgan wrote, some things that your grandparents and great-grandparents wrote or drew. It made me think. I can’t have children, so if you don’t, does that mean the Trevelyan line is over?” 

“Well, I’m pretty sure we have some distant cousins somewhere, but not any who carry the name. If it’s going to end with us, at least the last two Trevelyan’s will be memorable. I mean, unless we blow this whole Inquisition thing, in which case the end of our family line will be the least of the universe’s problems. I may eventually become a father, but it won’t be by blood.” He said with a dismissive shrug. 

“Why?” Jules asked, her head tilted curiously. She was completely oblivious of the delicate nature of the question. 

“Let’s just say that my choice in sexual partners makes it an impossibility.” He chuckled. 

“Oh,” Jules said with a nod. Then her eyes widened slightly. “Oh!” Then a final “oh” that was a little more disappointed. 

“Does that bother you?” He asked carefully, though she was oblivious of his change in tone and body language. 

“Well, no. It’s just that I don’t really want-” She started. 

“You just don’t want to see it.” He finished. 

“No. That’s stupid. Is that a thing?” Jules asked, incredulous. 

“Unfortunately, yes,” Morgan said, relieved enough to relax again. He’d been worried, needlessly it seemed, about how to tell her. Given her background, he had no idea what preconceived notions she might have or what horrible ideas people had indoctrinated her with.

“I don’t really care about that. I’ve just been thinking a lot about relationships since I got to spend those two days with Zevran and Briall before she left. They were just so….happy.” She finally found the word she wanted, though it didn’t seem strong enough. 

Morgan nodded knowingly. “They are. I’m sorry I interrupted you. What don’t you want?” He prompted. 

“I don’t want to go through my life without experiencing that. Even if it’s just a little bit. And I don’t want the people I care for to go without it either.” Her shoulder rose and dropped a few times, almost as if she was repeatedly shrugging. “I-um-I feel like I’m actually living life now. Not just existing. But, I didn’t feel like I was alive until I started having things-people-worth dying for. And the list is getting longer.” She met his eyes, frowning slightly. “Is it always so scary? Do you always constantly worry that something bad will happen to the people you care about? Or that they won’t be happy enough?”

He let out a huff of a laugh. “Yeah, that’s unfortunately how caring for people works. But, you kind of get used to it, I think. Zevran says that you’ve already surpassed his expectations of you at the one month mark. That makes me worry a little less about you.” He admitted. 

She smiled slightly and her cheeks flushed. “I may be cheating a little bit.” She admitted. 

Morgan let out a full laugh then. “ _ How _ are you cheating?” 

She tapped the side of her right temple, by her augmented grey eye. “I wrote a program to show me key points in anatomy. I’ve only done human so far though. Dwarves and elves are pretty similar. Qunari though will be hard. I might have Bull help me translate with that one.” 

“I didn’t know you saw so much with that one.” He marveled. “What else do you see?”

“You know how information panels turn off if no one is in front of them?” Morgan nodded. “I see data on them all the time. It’s also how I can open doors without touching them. I just have to focus on the open/close panel for a second.” 

“I was wondering how you did that.” He chuckled. 

“For certain engine components, I can sort of, hone in on them.” She was struggling to describe it. “Like it-” She frowned. “I don’t know, I look around and they kind of light up I guess when I’m looking in the right direction.” 

“Like a game of hot and cold?” He asked, amused. She looked at him, confused. “Right.” He clicked his tongue. “It’s a kids game. You try to find something and the other person, who knows where it is, will tell you if you’re getting hotter, or closer to it, or colder meaning you’re going the wrong way.”

Jules nodded slightly. “Yeah, kind of like that I suppose.” 

Now Morgan’s curiosity was really piqued. “What else can you do?” 

She thought for a moment, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. “I can get places most people can’t. For instance, I can make it through the connections between the upper and lower engines, though they weren’t meant for human passage. I’m pretty flexible because of that too. I can’t get drunk, unfortunately, because of my stomach and liver. My heart is completely artificial. My lungs are mine but augmented somehow. I don’t really know how.” 

“And, of course, my spine.” She finished. “That one is kind of shitty though.” Jules glanced at his face to gauge his reaction to her expletive, though he just looked amused. “I think it’s the reason why I feel pain when she’s damaged.” 

“You feel it with  _ The Herald _ is damaged?” He didn’t much care for that. 

She nodded. “We got hit in the starboard side once, almost breached the hull. It felt like someone stabbed me in the ribs. Took my breath away for a minute. I’m pretty sure they didn’t intend for that to happen.”

“I fucking hope not.” Morgan scowled. “It’s already bad enough that you’re tied to this ship for the rest of your life.” 

“She’s not so bad. Besides, it isn’t her fault.” Jules said with a smile. “ _ The Herald _ has been good to me.” 

“Too bad the same can’t be said for the people in it,” Morgan said quietly, almost to himself. 

“Not the people in it now.” She pointed out. 

His smile returned and he nodded. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” 

“I have to go. I have training.” She stood and took her plate. He pushed back his chair and rose as well. 

“I have a sparring match planned with Bull so I’ll see you there.” He said, taking her plate from her hands. “Later, J.” 

()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()

Jasoom blinked slowly, watching Jules from the end of her bed. The end of his tail flicked occasionally. She was sleeping peacefully, something for which he was grateful. He wished she could have such peace all night, every night. Content that she was safe, he walked through the swirl of black and grey mist that appeared in front of him and left it in Zevran’s room. 

The Antivan didn’t even question how he had gotten in or why he was visiting. He appeared to be writing a letter when he saw the cat out of the corner of his eye. He smiled and talked to Jasoom in a language that none of the others spoke. He liked the lilting words and the deft fingers that scratched all the right places with the perfect amount of pressure. He let the elf get back to his work and disappeared in a wisp of smoke again. 

Morgan’s room was pitch black, yet he could see perfectly. Jasoom jumped silently onto the bed and onto Morgan’s back. He stayed for a few moments to feel the rise and fall of his breath. Since he was sleeping peacefully Jasoom would get no affection here. He jumped off of Morgan’s back and into the swirling black mist again. 

He landed on the floor of Cullen’s room. The man didn’t seem to notice him. He was hunched over his small table, his fingers raked through his hair as he rested his head against his palm. A half-eaten plate of food was pushed to the edge of the far side. The smell of the roast beef called to him. He sat down beside Cullen’s chair and meowed. 

He looked down at Jasoom and let out a chuff of a laugh. “What a surprise. Lucky for you I don’t have a dog. I am a dog person, you know.” 

Jasoom jumped up onto the table with a ‘mmrrp’ and sat down on his reports. He licked his chops, looking back at Cullen’s plate. The man chuckled and reached around him to grab a piece of beef. He tore it into small chunks, feeding it to Jasoom one at a time. Once he’d eaten the entire piece, Jasoom licked the back of his paw to clean his face. Cullen smiled and simply enjoyed the momentary distraction from his work.

“I’ve gotten used to you popping in every night, but it’s still a little weird. What are you?” He wondered, scratching under Jasoom’s chin. The cat started to purr, raising his head to give him better access. Part of Cullen expected the cat to actually respond, not with words but in his own, unique way. “Have you finished your rounds yet tonight?” He asked, amused. 

Jasoom looked up at him, regarding him with the blue galaxies trapped in his eyes. There was something oddly comforting about them. Like the feline knew what was going to happen and that it was all going to be okay. Jasoom’s tail flicked, sending a paper onto the floor. Cullen bent down to pick it up and when he sat back up the cat was gone. 

He’d already made his way to Cassandra’s room. Like Cullen, she was at her table, stacks of paper in front of her. Unlike Cullen, she was folded over the table sleeping. He jumped onto the table beside her and yowled loudly. The woman woke with a start, shooting up and reaching for a weapon at her hip that wasn’t there. 

“Maker’s breath.” She growled under her breath, holding a hand to her chest. She watched Jasoom jump from the table to the bed in one swift bound. He rubbed his head on her pillow and then flopped over, rubbing against it and meowing. “Come to send me to bed again?” She asked, exasperated, though not at him. She wearily removed her uniform jacket, folding over the back of the chair she’d just been occupying. 

When Cassandra pulled back the covers he rolled and jumped off her pillow. “Goodnight, little void.” She scratched behind his ear to get a good purr out of him before climbing into bed. He sat beside her bed for a little while until he heard her soft, even breathing. He wasn’t in any hurry. 

In the quiet darkness of the Seeker’s room, his head turned suddenly. One ear moved forward and back, trying to hone in on something. With light feet, he hopped through another swirl of dark mist, disappearing once more. 

< **Trigger Warning** >

_ The pillow always smelled musty. She hated it, but it was better than watching him. His screwed up face above her with his sweat dripping onto her. Or the worst of it, his grunting and panting.  _

_ It certainly wasn’t her favorite part of the job, but it wasn’t the worst either. She’d gotten used to it over the years. She’d even learned some things that would make it feel like time was going faster. Either way, it was her duty and she always did her duty.  _

_ She buried her face against the pillow for a moment. She hated it when he went faster, but it also meant he was almost done, so she endured. Her brows furrowed and she gripped the sheets with white knuckles, willing it to be over.  _

_ Praises rang in her ears of what a good girl, what a good flea she was. She resisted the urge to whimper and brought her hand to her mouth, biting into the flesh of her thumb while he… _

< **Trigger warning END** >

_ “Look at me, beautiful.” The deep voice urged. So different from a moment ago. She opened her eyes and found herself on her back instead of her stomach. The thick, sweaty face had been replaced with Cullen’s. His amber eyes were almost all pupil in the near darkness. “There you are.” He said with a smile that made her heart swell. “I see you.”  _

_ Jules felt her breath catch. The way he looked at her. Like he did see  _ her _. Like he wanted her. Cherished her. She slid her hand around his neck and up into his hair, pulling him down gently into a kiss. His body blanketed hers, but not in a confining way. She could move from beneath him if she wanted to. Not that she did.  _

_ As his lips moved lazily against hers, his hand cupping her cheek, she couldn’t help but wonder what this feeling was. Comfort, for sure. Safety. Cullen made her feel safe. Somewhere deep down she still felt part of herself staying hidden. Just in case he gave her cause to withdraw again.  _

_ Was this what love felt like? Jules wondered as Cullen’s lips moved down her jaw, his hand moving down her shoulder and to her bare chest. His thumb grazed the side of her breast and she shivered at the pleasurable tickle it brought. His touch moved down her side and slid beneath her to the small of her back.  _

_ He lifted her and she could feel the press of his hips, his heavy erection between them. Jules could hear his rapid breathing against her ear as he teased the soft spot behind her lobe. “Tell me if you don’t want this.” He said gently, raising his head to look down at her.  _

_ It was a sweet mix of his worried words and the tender way he tucked her hair behind her ear that made her smile. To her surprise, he smiled back. Maker, she loved making this man smile. "I do want this. You. I want you." Jules said softly, feeling the sting of unbidden tears. _

_ She had no idea how she got here. She didn’t even know where they were. But he was here. All of the complicated feelings she was used to when she saw him during the day were absent now. Cullen smiled at her again and she wet her lower lip nervously with her tongue. She wasn’t even completely sure what she was consenting to. Physically, yes, of course she knew. But this wasn’t just physical. She hoped.  _

_ “You can’t do that.” He groaned, pressing his knee between her thighs so he could settle between them.  _

_ “What?” She asked, breathless and distracted.  _

_ “You can’t look so incredibly  _ enticing _.” He replied with a breathy chuckle. “I have you here and yet I still can’t get enough of you.”  _

_ “We haven’t done anything yet. Maybe you will once we’re done.” She pointed out, hiding the disappointment that clung to her words.  _

_ “Haven’t done anything yet?” He laughed aloud, his hand sliding over her stomach, then back up to her breast, palming it gently. “I was under the impression that you crying out my name with my face between your thighs was more than that.” Maker, save her. Had that happened? Once he said the words, she had a vague flash of pleasure that hummed up her spine. “Either way, it wasn’t just ‘anything’ to me. The way you taste…” He groaned into her ear then lowered his head to lavish kisses along her neck and collarbones. She closed her eyes and hummed in appreciation.  _

_ “The way you squirm and whimper. You’re so….pure, Jules.” He murmured reverently. She could feel him reach between them, the swollen head of his cock teasing her clit before moving lower. She felt his lips ghost across her scarred cheek. “Open your eyes. I want to see you when I’m with you. When I’m inside of you. I want you to see me. To see  _ everything _ I feel for you.”  _

_ She opened her eyes as his hips surged forward- _

Jules sat up abruptly, struggling to disentangle herself from her bed linens. She could feel her heart racing and her skin felt hot. A drop of sweat trickled down her spine, startling her and making her shudder. She swallowed hard, frowning at the odd sensations and feelings coursing through her. She clenched her thighs together to help quell the discomfort between them. 

No, not discomfort.  _ What was this? _ Oh, Maker. Was something wrong?

She slid off the bed quickly and paced to the small bathroom, looking at her face in the mirror. Her face was flushed, the scar across her cheek bright white against the rosy skin. Her breathing had started to calm but her concern made it grow faster again. 

She walked back to her bed and sat down just as the memory of her dream resurfaced. She gasped, covering her mouth with one hand. How could she think that? About her friend, no less! He’d shown her kindness and she was dreaming about jumping into bed with him? She didn’t even like sex!

Jules could feel the panic rising at her inappropriate thoughts. Where was Jasoom? She needed him. As she opened her mouth to call for him, her door chirped. 

She swallowed hard and called out. “Who is it?” 

“Bull.” Came the gruff voice. “I think I have something that belongs to you.” 

She focused on his words, letting this simple task consume her thoughts instead of panic and shame. She took a steadying breath and went to the door. Jules didn’t even consider what she was wearing. It wasn’t inappropriate, necessarily, but not something she might have been seen in had she been in her right mind. 

Jules was so surprised at the sight on the other side of her door that her panic was temporarily smothered. The Iron Bull had a series of scratches going down his cheek, opposite the side of his face with the patch. Quite obviously cat scratches. His arms were hugged to his chest and nestled against one of the tree trunks was Jasoom. He was on his back, being held like a baby with his tail curled up against his stomach. He had the audacity to be purring. Loudly. The end of his tail flicked slightly at the sight of her and she got the impression that he was very pleased with himself. 

“Bull!” She gasped. “I’m so sorry, are you okay? Jas, what were you thinking?” She stepped back quickly and waved him in. “I can take care of that. I think.” She offered. He hunched down to get through the door, letting Jasoom hop onto the floor. He sat down at her side table, comically large in her small chair which protested under his weight. She met him there with a small medical kit, opening it and pulling on gloves to tend to his scratches. 

Jules could feel his eye on her as she cleaned up his cheek. She tried to ignore it but it felt like he was staring into her soul, viewing all of her deepest, darkest secrets. 

“You okay, Boss?” He asked quietly. He chuckled when she jumped, pulling her hand back from his cheek. 

She cleared her throat and met his eye. “I was having a nightmare.” She said simply, setting down the bloody gauze and getting the antibiotic gel. 

“Wanna talk about it?” Bull asked gently. She glanced at him again and shrugged. He waved a hand, refusing the bandage. “Sit down.” He ordered, gently. She peeled off the gloves and sat across from him. “It helps to talk about nightmares sometimes.” Bull told her. “You haven’t had anyone to talk to in the past but you do now. You don’t have to suffer alone.” 

“And you want to hear about my dreams?” She asked, skeptically. “Surely you have better things to do. Like sleep.” 

He chuckled. “Nothing more important than this.” Jules felt her cheeks flush slightly. “Do you know what I do? Under the Qun?” 

“Leliana said you’re a spy.” Though her tone seemed to suggest she knew that wasn’t all there was to it. 

Bull nodded. “I am that, but more. I am Ben Hassrath. We have very special training. To put it simply, we’re very good at getting into people’s heads. I try to use my powers only for good though.” He assured her with a crooked smile. 

Her brows furrowed and she looked down at her hands, clenching her fists to keep them from shaking. “It wasn’t really a nightmare. I mean, it was at first.” She glanced up at him, gauging his reaction. “The usual one I have. But then it changed.” 

“You don’t have to talk about it, but I know a thing or two about nightmares.” Bull chuckled. She nodded and looked down again, her cheeks flushing. “Nightmares and wet dreams.” He added. 

“Wet dreams?” She asked, her hand hooking over her shoulder in a bid to keep it from rising and falling. Or at least, to keep him from noticing. 

“Well, people don’t usually blush when they remember their nightmares. Wet dreams are sex dreams, Boss.” He informed her. Her blush started to travel down her neck. 

“Well, um-” She coughed uncomfortably. “I was having a we-um-a dream about sex. But...it changed and I..I think I liked it.” She admitted.

“People usually do. I mean they can get frustrating if you wake up alone and horny.” Bull commented with a shrug. 

“I don’t.” She said bluntly, making Bull raise a brow. “Like “it” I mean. I never have.” 

“Really? That’s unfortunate.” He commented. “I was under the impression that the crew didn’t interact with you much. Honestly, that they didn’t even like you. Did someone force themselves on you?”

“No. It was my duty.” She pointed out. 

Bull scowled. “Whore wasn’t on the list of duties in your file.” He watched her retreat a little further behind her walls. “Who was it that you had a  _ duty _ to have sex with?” Bull tried to keep his voice neutral but he was furious at the injustice of it. She was innocent, in so many ways. 

“First Commander Hayden.” She gave the name up reluctantly. 

Bull let out a sigh and shook his head. He reached out and took her hand. He felt her tense, but she didn’t pull away. “Jules, I’m going to tell you this as a friend. It will probably embarrass you but you need to know that none of it is your fault.”

She nodded dumbly. “Okay.” Jules whispered. 

“Hayden took advantage of you. It was not your duty to sleep with him.” He told her gently. 

“It was.” She argued. “I was told that I was always to obey every order of my First Commander. Every order, without question. For as long as I can remember.” 

Bull shook his head. “Unfortunately, that can be the problem. Many people of power use their position to take advantage of people who can’t, or don’t know, to say no. Even if it  _ was _ originally sanctioned to be part of your duties, it wasn’t right.” Bull remembered how old she was when  _ The Herald _ launched. Despite the Qun’s view on procreation, he’d learned much from his travels. Even an idiot would know that wasn’t right. 

“Please don’t tell anyone how stupid I am.” She whispered, not able to look up at him. 

“I won’t. But you should talk to someone. It doesn’t have to be me.” Jules nodded quickly and he released her hand. “Wanna talk about the last part of your dream? You seemed to be more shaken up about that part.” 

“It was abrupt. Suddenly it wasn’t Commander Hayden. It was Cullen.” She said it quietly. “It’s so stupid. He would never think of me like that.” 

Bull laughed. “I think you’d be surprised. I would be willing to bet money that the good Commander Rutherford has absolutely thought about you in an intimate way.” 

Her cheeks were a furious red now. “Really? Commander Hayden told me I was….well, I probably shouldn’t listen to him, should I?”

“Absolutely not.” Bull agreed. “I’m gonna tell you something, Boss and I promise I’m not the only one who thinks it. You are  _ hot _ .” 

“I’m scarred and...broken” Jules countered almost immediately. 

“Doesn’t make you any less beautiful. Believe it or not, there are those of us who find scars more attractive. They’re a testament to the trials you have survived.” He pointed out. “You have survived trials that would have broken others. You should wear your scars with pride. I do. The patch is mostly for other people’s comfort.” He said with a shrug. 

“Say I was attracted to him…” She began hesitantly. 

“Yes, let’s  _ pretend _ .” Bull teased.

Jules glared back at him good-naturedly. “Yes,  _ pretend _ I’m attracted to Cul-” She almost choked on his name. “Commander Rutherford. What would you suggest I do about it?” 

Bull’s head fell back with his booming laugh. It shook his shoulders and jumped Jasoom who shot up to his feet with his bristled tail in the air. A quick survey of the room assured him that everything was fine. Very slowly his tail relaxed and he settled back down.

“Anything.” He answered. “What I suggest you do is anything at all.” He leaned forward again, resting one arm on the table. “Just know, that being with him won’t change or fix your past. Don’t do anything if that’s what you’re after. If you’re looking to make your future better, then do anything you can, Boss.” 

“If I do something, and he is attracted to me too-” She started. 

“Ah, pretending again?” He snorted. 

“What if I can’t make him happy?” She looked up at his amused eye. 

“Then he’ll say something.” Bull shook his head skeptically. “But I can’t imagine that happening. See, you both seem the type to understand what a good thing you’ve got. You both want something more and you’ve both lived a life that ensures you take nothing for granted. The hard part will be getting you both to take the risk. I promise it will be worth it if you do.” 

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Jules sorted through the clothes that Josephine sent to her. Slim fitting pants in mostly dark and earthy colors. Several practical shirts and a few that seemed dressier. A short, black leather jacket and a long light grey cloth coat hung over two chairs. A couple of brown boxes with a note sat at the end of the bed. 

She had no idea which of these things was meant to go together. She figured she would just have to find things she liked and hoped they didn’t look like completely idiotic. She was sure that black pants were the safe way to go. She pulled on a mossy green shirt with long sleeves and a wide neckline. 

Making her way to the end of the bed, she set aside the note she’d read several times already. 

_ Passerota,  _

_ These are for your new wardrobe, hand-crafted and imported from the finest leather workers in Antiva City. Try both for a while so you know how you prefer to keep them on hand. _

_ Zevran _

She opened one box and could immediately smell the rich leather. The black harness had hammered silverite accents. She slipped it over her shoulders, connecting the strap that ran under her collar bones. A wide belt connected high on her hips over her pants and tucked-in shirt with three small buckles. A smaller belt wrapped around her ribcage, just under her breasts. She carefully pulled Zevran’s gifts from their intricate wood box. They slid into their scabbards with a soft catch, horizontally with one handle accessible on each side. They were out of the way and not too bulky. She slipped on the black leather jacket. The length only went to the bottom of her rib cage, leaving her weapons exposed and available. The short collar accentuated her slim neck. She left it unzipped in the front.

Sitting on the bed, she bent to pull on the soft leather boots Josephine had also sent. They were an elegant soft black that moulded to her calves and stopped a few inches below her knees. The tops were embroidered with thick black thread in an elaborate geometric pattern. 

Walking to the mirror she frowned. Tugging at the bottom of the jacket, she tried to recognize herself in this new attire. She pinned her hair up in a simple, functional bun and let her bangs sweep to the side of her face. That looked better. She never kept her hair down. Tracing the scar on her cheek, she tried not to give it too much thought. 

“Jasoom?” She called, turning slightly in the mirror. When she glanced over, he was sitting on her table. “What do you think? Do I look silly?” 

His blue eyes glared at her. “So, not silly.” She laughed. “I sure hope you’re right.” She muttered to herself. Slipping off the jacket, she removed the harness. If she met with the mages and templars armed, it probably wouldn’t send a very good message. 

She would be a little bit early for their briefing but it was better than sitting around. She scratched Jasoom’s cheeks and kissed the top of his head. “Wish me luck!” 

Jules nearly ran into Cullen when she turned into the main corridor. “Commander Rutherford, excuse me!” She apologized quickly. “I should have been watching where I was going.”

“You look-wow, you look fantastic.” He stuttered. “The new look suits you.” He tried to sound more confident with the last bit. 

“Really?” She was genuinely surprised. “Thank you, Commander.” 

“I thought we agreed on Cullen?” He asked, falling into step beside her. 

“Did we agree?” She asked, trying to hold back her smile. She was starting to get the hang of this teasing thing. Though, perhaps with him it was closer to flirting. That thing that Morgan kept accusing her of doing. 

“Perhaps I was mistaken and it was mere hope that I would hear my name grace your lips again.” He chuckled. 

Jules would later swear that she tripped on something other than her own feet. Stumbling forward, Cullen’s arms shot out to steady her. She righted herself and thanked him quietly, tugging on her jacket to set it back into place. “And-um, why is that?” She asked curiously. She nervously pushed her sweeping bangs behind her ear, though they mostly just fell back over her forehead again. 

“Because,” He said with a smile. “It’s so beautiful the way you say it. I quite enjoy it.” 

“Really?” Jules asked dumbly, her surprise apparent. 

“Really. There’s something about your accent. It’s a little bit of everything, but still definitely a Marcher’s accent. I could listen to it for hours.” Cullen’s step stuttered when he realized she had stopped. Turning, he saw her starting at him. Her eyes were slightly wide. “I’m sorry, have I misstepped?” He asked, raising his arm to awkwardly rub the back of his neck. 

She shook her head quickly, holding his gaze. “No.” She breathed out. “I just-” 

Jules took the few steps between them and laid her hands on his shoulders, fingers buried in the soft crimson fur of his mantle. She rose on her toes to press her lips against his. She was certainly just as surprised as he was. 

There was no hesitation in his response though. His hand felt warm against her cheek as his thumb feathered over it. His lips started to move over hers so she imitated him, taking a step closer until her boot touched his. 

Quite suddenly the realization of her actions set in. Her hands pressed into his shoulders, pushing him away as she stepped back. She covered her mouth with one hand, holding the other up. “I’m so sorry.” Jules lowered her hands, wringing her fingers together “Have I misstepped?” 

He took the distance that she’d created between them to gently lay his hand over hers, stopping her fidgeting. “No. You haven’t.” 

She closed her eyes, grimacing. “That must have been absolutely terrible. I haven’t kissed a lot of people or really any, a whole lot and that isn’t exactly something you can practice-” She continued to ramble until Cullen’s fingers gently lifted her chin. She chanced opening her eyes and was rewarded with the most brilliant smile. She felt her breath catch in her throat for a moment. 

“It wasn’t terrible at all.” He assured her softly. 

“Does that mean you’d be willing to do it again?” Jules asked hesitantly.

He almost sputtered when he laughed. “”Willing” isn’t perhaps the right word. “Eager” might be better.” She watched him glance down both ends of the corridor, showing far more self-restraint that she had. Once he was assured they were alone, he lowered his head, still holding her chin gently. She met his lips and after a moment of hesitation laid her hand against his chest. 

She let out a soft, involuntary sigh when he broke the gentle kiss and opened her eyes slowly to look up at him. “You’re smiling.” He commented, laying his hand over hers. He gently took it off of his chest and kissed the back of her fingers. “We should go. We’ve gone from being early to being late for our meeting. Perhaps we can address this later?” She couldn’t help but notice the slight flush on his cheeks. 

“Mmhmm,” She hummed, nodding. “Yes, please.” The butterflies in her stomach made her feet feel light. 

“Are you ready to mediate your first truce between warring factions?” She felt his hand rest on her lower back, beneath the jacket so that she could feel the warmth of his palm. 

“No,” She admitted. “I’m glad this whole thing doesn’t rest solely on my shoulders.”

“It does not.” He assured her. As they walked to Control, he briefed her again on the two factions. Jules couldn’t help but notice that he glanced at her. A lot. Which she of course only knew because she kept glancing at him. 

Both their conversation and flirtatious glances were cut short when the door to the War Room opened. Cassandra and two people she didn’t recognize were yelling and gesturing wildly. Jules could see Leliana’s mouth moving, but couldn’t possibly hear what she was saying over the din. Varric was sitting in the back corner, grinning. 

She was sure that normally Cullen would have allowed her to enter the room first, but this time he gently moved in front of her, shielding her from the worst of it. 

“Enough!” He roared, startling even Varric. All eyes turned to Cullen. “We are here for  _ peaceful _ negotiations.” He reminded all those in attendance. Stepping aside, he allowed her to enter, gesturing to the chair at the front of the table. “If you would all please take your seats.” His voice was just dripping with diplomacy. She knew that he was apprehensive about meeting with both groups at once, especially since he had been a part of one of them in the past. 

“Welcome to  _ The Herald,  _ the flagship vessel of the Inquisition’s fleet.” He turned and gave her a reassuring smile, his amber eyes warm and encouraging. “I’m happy to introduce her Captain, Jules Trevelyan.” He took the seat at her right and folded his hands in front of him on the table. “Now, shall we discuss, as adults, the true threat to Ferelden or would you prefer to squabble?” 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Passerota= You still have to wait. 
> 
> I hope this was worth the wait! The kiss was a total surprise to me! I just love it when some scenes write themselves just where they're supposed to be. <3
> 
> Next chapter we meet Dorian _and_ Cass might lighten up when she gets some. (Probably not though.)


	7. Redcliffe Runaround

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trip to meet with Fiona to lockdown their alliance goes terribly, terribly wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your continued patience with this project! Despite limited time to work on it, I am still so incredibly in love with this project. I'm so appreciative that you are too!
> 
> This chapter features two original characters. Elbereth from Charlatron and Tryg who was created by my beta! I just adore them and I hope you do too!

Jules couldn’t help but notice the occasional, curious gaze from the elf behind the bar in the Officer’s Club. It wasn’t necessarily intrusive but since they were the only ones in the room, it was hard not to notice. Jasoom was lounging lazily across her shoulders, his tail occasionally flicking across her cheek. His very presence was soothing and helped her not feel anxious about being the center of someone’s attention.

The woman busied herself behind the bar and then walked, or rather sauntered, over to Jules with a drink in her hand. She was rather unlike any of the other elves that Jules had met. Her hourglass figure was a sharp contrast to her usually tall, lithe brethren. Black pants molded to her legs, rising high on her wide hips and accenting her slim waist. Jules wondered if she knew that she had a wide rip across her right knee. She wore a navy blue flannel shirt with thick black lines that was mostly unbuttoned, showing a black shirt beneath with a lacy neckline. 

Her hair was dark green and perfectly straight, falling to the small of her back. It swung from side to side slightly when she walked. Silver rings adorned the tips of her ears, which was common, but the decorations in her lobes were completely foreign to Jules. There were wide circles through the lobes that she could see through, beyond the light mandala pattern that capped the front. 

She had a cute button nose under upturned eyes that were framed in dark liner with flicks at the corners. If it wasn’t for the friendly smile on her black-painted lips, she would have looked suspicious of Jules. 

“Can I sit?” Her voice was low for a woman but in a melodic way that harmonized well with her attire’s inclination toward black. 

“Please, help yourself.” Jules couldn’t help but smile back at the elf. 

“My name is Elbereth. Or El.” She slid gracefully into the seat and set the drink she’d prepared in front of Jules. “On the house for the lost Trevelyan.” 

“Oh, thank you. I appreciate it but I don’t drink.” Jules said with a gentle smile. 

“I know. You can’t get  _ drunk _ . That’s what makes you a bartender’s best friend. I can get you to try all of my best experiments and get an unbiased opinion, “ Elbereth said cheerfully. 

Jules’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I suppose that would make me quite the useful asset.”

El’s laugh was low and musical. “You aren’t a tool, dear. First of all, you can say no. Second of all, I’d like to give you companionship in return. Ya know, be friends.” 

Feeling a blush on her cheeks, Jules covered it by lifting the glass to examine the drink. It was in a small, square glass with very distinct layers. The bottom was a rich reddish-brown color. The next layer was more of a warm amber while the third was more of a bright gold. On the top was a very thin layer of something creamy. The entire thing smelled of hazelnuts and was vaguely woody and spicy. 

“All at once?” Jules asked, looking through her lashes at the elf who nodded, her smile broadening. With more hesitation then El was used to seeing when people drank shots, Jules brought the glass to her lips and drank it slowly. She was pleased to see Jules take some time to evaluate the flavor before swallowing the concoction. 

“That’s-that’s actually really good,” Jules said after a moment of contemplation. Her smile widened slightly. “I don’t get them often, but I’m quite fond of hazelnuts.” 

“I have some chocolate that you’ll love then.” El laughed, leaning back in the chair. “I’ll bring it with me on my next shift so that you can try some.” 

“I’m afraid I won’t be back for a while. We’ll be arriving at Redcliffe soon to meet with the leader of the rebel mages. She wants to talk more before she agrees to ally herself with the Inquisition.” Jules’s eyebrows furrowed. “Everyone just wants to talk. It’s exhausting, saying the same thing a dozen different ways. They make it so difficult and I don’t understand why. It should be easy.” 

El nodded sympathetically. “Politics require a unique form of communication. It’s one that not even the people who speak it fully understand. Honestly, I don’t know if you’ll ever get the hang of it.” 

Jules frowned and looked up at the elf again. “You don’t think so?” She sounded disappointed. 

“No, but that isn’t a bad thing.” Elbereth sat up again, leaning toward Jules. “Sometimes they get so lost in the talking they forget what they’re supposed to be working toward. A new voice is a disruption and sometimes disruption is what you need to break the cycle and get results. You aren’t a politician or diplomat, but that’s a good thing, Jules.” 

“I don’t even understand why they want me there. I’m just a Flea.” Jules reached up to scratch Jasoom’s head when he pushed it against her cheek. 

“You aren’t  _ ‘just’ _ anything.” El gave her a smile. “You are a marvel, and we’ve only begun to see what you’re capable of.” 

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Jules adjusted the belt of the holster that carried Zevran’s, or rather her, blades. The harness wrapped around her waist and then around each thigh, keeping the short blades tight against her legs, moving as she did. She smiled at her teacher as he disappeared into the transport with Cassandra. Cullen's smile was the one that caught her attention though. He reached out to her and she grasped his hand, letting him pull her closer to him. 

“I’ve seen how far you’ve come. You’re fast and lethal. But-” he hesitated, brows furrowed, “-I feel like I should tell you that it will be completely different when you’re in a real battle. It’s loud and it’s bloody and it’s  _ scary _ .” Squeezing her hand, he brushed his fingers down her cheek. “Don’t lose your head. Breathe, stay calm, and stay close to everyone else. Most of all, be careful. I want you-I need you-to come back.” 

“I’ll be surrounded by very dangerous people. I promise I’ll be careful and that I’ll come back. Besides, we’re just going to talk.” She pointed out.

“I hope so.” He didn’t want to scare her any more than he probably already had. She was right. Jules would be in very good company. “Could I kiss you goodbye?” 

Immediately, Jules felt a flush spread on her cheeks. They had talked about their spontaneous kiss in the hallway. She’d been so relieved that she hadn’t driven him away. Jules had surprised herself with her impulsive gesture. They’d both agreed to take it slowly. Her to adjust to the feeling of attraction she’d never felt before, and him to ensure he didn’t take advantage of that. Other than that talk, it hadn’t been brought up again. Until now. 

“I would like that.” Her admission came with a hesitant smile. The confidence in his smile, however, made her shiver though she didn’t exactly know why. He bent his head, closing his eyes as he drew near. Her eyes fluttered closed and she pressed her lips to his. He was so warm and so inviting. She could do this all day long. She let out a hum of disappointment when he pulled away, her lips chasing his for a moment. “Will I get another one when I come back?” 

He laughed, sending warmth through her. Maker, he was gorgeous when he laughed. “Absolutely.” He walked her to the shuttle door, squeezing her hand before he released her. “Be safe.” 

With a nod, she turned away and mounted the ramp. Heading to the front, she rested her hand on the back of the pilot’s chair. “Cassandra, I-” With a start, she took a step back. “You aren’t Cassandra.” 

“Nope!” A pale silver-skinned Qunari woman grinned up at her. “Sure aren’t!” Small spiral horns peaked out of her mauve hair, their color a blend of her hair and skin. She wore black and grey leather pants and jacket, the Inquisition logo stitched on the breast. “Catch!” 

Jules’s hand shot up to catch the object that was thrown at her face. “Nice reflexes!” The woman complimented as Jules opened her hand to see what it was. It was a small dracolisk figure. The protruding horns and spikes were replaced with shiny little jewels. Even bejeweled, they were truly ugly creatures. When she handed it back, the Qunari set it on the console in front of her, affectionately turning it just so. “Thanks. My name is Sonja Trygvassen. Most people just call me Tryg.” 

Cassandra moved past Jules to take the co-pilot’s seat. “Ms. Trygvassen is a pilot that I’ve worked with extensively in the past. She’s quite good.” The Seeker was reserved with her compliments so Jules knew she meant it. “Since I am needed elsewhere, I thought she would be an adequate replacement.” 

“Adequate? I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve said about me, Cassie.” Tryg grinned. Jules saw Cassandra’s jaw clench at the nickname. She got the distinct impression that no one else was allowed to call her “Cassie.” Perhaps not even Tryg.

“Did you need something from me?” Cassandra asked, clearly hoping she wouldn’t ask about the nickname.

“I-um-I don’t remember,” Jules admitted. “I’ll just go take my seat. It was nice to meet you.” 

“Likewise.” Tryg gave her a nod and then turned back to her console. 

Shaken by the odd encounter, she returned to the back of the shuttle, taking a seat between Morgan and Zevran. Varric sat across from them, his precious Bianca cradled in his lap. His head was resting against the back of the seat and his eyes were closed. “Are you okay, Varric?” 

He didn’t even open his eyes when he responded. “Oh yeah, Precious. I’m just peachy. Nothing like hurtling through space into an atmosphere that sets you on fire in a tin can propelled by highly flammable fuel. What could possibly go wrong?”

Jules frowned and looked at Morgan, unsure by Varric’s reply if he was okay or not. “He’s being sarcastic. He’s scared of flying.” Morgan translated with a chuckle. 

“I’m not scared of  _ flying, _ ” Varric said indignantly, “I’m afraid of  _ crashing _ .” 

The hydraulics of the shuttle door whirred as it closed. The solid thunk of the locks engaging was reassuring. To Jules at least. Varric looked like he was walking to the gallows. When the shuttle left the Herald’s dock, she noticed his knuckles turn white as he gripped Bianca. Jules couldn’t imagine being afraid of flying. “Is he going to be okay?” she asked quietly. 

“Only if we do not die.” Zevran's laugh always made her smile. 

“In other words, yes, he’ll be okay.” Morgan joined in the laughter. Varric made a mocking face, silently mimicking them and making it clear what he thought of their ribbing. “Let me know if you need someone to hold your hair for you.”

“Stow it, Beefcake.” The dwarf grumbled. 

As they neared the planet of Redcliffe, the transport started to shake. “Nothing to worry about!” Tryg called from the cockpit. The shaking started to intensify, items rattling in their secure boxes and harnesses. Jules could hear Cassandra and Tryg talking in low tones to each other, quiet but urgent. 

“Just normal atmosphere turbulence!” Tryg called back again before immediately leaning toward Cassandra. “I’ve never been to Redcliffe before. Is the atmosphere supposed to be that color?” The Qunari said it quietly, but not quietly enough. 

“What color?” Varric asked, his eyes shooting open. “Atmospheres are all the same color. Clear!” 

“It isn’t the atmosphere.” Cassandra looked back at the four of them in the hold. “A rift is opening on the border of the capital city.” 

“This is wonderful!” Zevran exclaimed, nudging Jules’s shoulder. “ _ Passerotta _ , you can practice your craft!”

“Wonderful?” Varric groaned and closed his eyes again, holding Bianca tight against his stomach. “Wonderful, he says. Wonderful!” He scrubbed one hand over his pale face. “Why did I let her talk me out of Kirkwall?” 

A spike of fear shot through Jules. Memories of the first rift in the valley made her heart race. She had been so scared. Creatures, the likes of which she had never seen. Horrific and violent with only one intent. Death. Painful death.

Jules had to remind herself that things had changed since then. Months had passed. She knew how to defend herself and the tingling in her hand reminded her that she knew, too, how to close the rift. She had people that she trusted. Perhaps naively so, but they had yet to disappoint her. It was a dangerous game, trusting people, but it was paying off so far. “We need to get as close to the rift as possible.” She tried to sound confident when she said it. 

“That’s going to be tricky,” Tryg called. “The distortions are already causing some extreme turbulence.” 

“But can you do it?” Morgan asked, gripping his harness straps tightly. 

“Yes.” Both Cassandra and Tryg answered at the same time. 

“Andraste's dimpled buttcheeks!” Varric breathed out. 

Jules watched the two women in the cockpit. Cassandra’s hands flew over the controls while a manual control column ascended from the panel in front of Tryg. The shaking of the craft was starting to rattle her bones. She could see green mist swirling and crackling. Bolts of brilliant white lightning foretold the inevitable arrival of the demons that would spew from the Fade. They had to get there quickly. Before people got hurt. 

A crack of lightning trailing green mist struck the shuttle. Metal groaned as they were jolted to the side and for a few moments, it felt like they were falling out of the sky. Jules caught a glance out the front of the cockpit. They  _ were  _ falling out of the sky. Alarms in several tones were going off only adding to the deafening cacophony of rattling gear, groaning metal and crackling atmosphere. 

With a roar, the engines kicked back on and they leveled out. The craft moved to the outskirts of the growing rift and moved toward a landing pad just outside its sphere of immediate destruction. Despite the general ongoing din, the moment the shuttle settled onto hard earth, Varric let out a heavy breath. 

“You look relieved, my friend. Are you so eager to face a demon?” Zevran, though slightly pale himself, didn’t miss the opportunity to tease the dwarf. Perhaps a bid to process his own feelings about the close call or to ease everyone’s mind with something else to think about. 

“Any. Day.” He grumbled, quickly unbuckling his harness and shooting from his seat. He stood next to the door as it opened, making an impatient gesture nearly the whole time. 

“Are you ready,  _ passerotta _ ? There are lives to save.” Zevran was unbuckling his own harness. Though it wasn’t quite the speed in which Varric had freed himself, he was still aware that people were in danger. 

“She’s ready.” Morgan had been watching and even helping her train with Zevran. It was reassuring that he had such confidence in her when Jules didn’t necessarily feel it in herself. She watched him pull on his nanite gauntlets. The dark metal over black leather was like vertebrae that traveled down from mid-arm to his wrists. The scales that overlapped down his fingers reminded her of a dragon. The weapons were certainly just as deadly. 

A small, bright blue circle lit up on the back of each hand and with a whir that couldn’t be heard over the din, they tightened around his arms and hands like a second skin. After a test flex of his fingers, Morgan offered her his hand to stand.

Cassandra stalked through the hold of the shuttle to the ramp that Varric was already halfway down. She took up her heavy blade as she passed before turning to Jules. 

“Remember, Morgan and I keep their focus. We will be hit and we will be hurt but you do not act rashly. That is our purpose on the field. You stay on the outskirts. Draw in one at a time, and never more attention than that. If you need help, shout.” Her stern voice, reiterating what had been pounded into her for the last couple of months grounded Jules. 

With the realization that she wasn’t as nervous as she thought she would be, Jules nodded. 

The din heard from the shuttle was incomparable to the utter chaos outside. People ran in every direction away from the rift and the demons manifesting around it. By the time she descended into the fray, Varric had pinned a demon to the ground and Cassandra was immediately on top of it. 

Take in the field. Pick your battle. Engage. 

With a roaring battle cry she felt in her ribs, Morgan charged into the fight, drawing the attention of three demons who stalked and sludged toward him. She watched as he sprinted over a patch of yellow glowing ground and it seemed as if he lurched forward. Jules was curious why he’d never mentioned that skill before, but ignored him for now. As hard as it was to turn her mind away from his wellbeing and the overwhelming need to protect him, she had to. 

Drawing her blades, she set her sights on a demon that had been separated from his brethren. That wasn’t the only reason she picked it. It was also the demon that frightened her the most. A terror demon. It’s long limbs and odd movements made her shiver. The way it could just melt into the ground and shoot out somewhere else was horrifying. It was also the very same demon she had saved Cassandra from in the Valley. 

As if it could feel her gaze, the demon turned to face her with a screech that might have sent her running just a few weeks earlier. It started toward her, stepping into a glowing green mist. It seemed to slow, as if its feet were stuck in dense mud. Adjusting her grip and trusting her training, Jules sprinted toward it. Never question an advantage. She would just have to be careful not to get stuck in the same mire.

Feinting left, she made an attempt to sever the arm on her right. Having only practiced with no intent to harm, it was much harder than she anticipated. The blade was sharp enough to sever the limb but she underestimated the force required.

With a scream that made her ears ring, it pulled away from her, and with it, her blade. The grip slipped right through her hand.

_ Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. _ Jules reminded herself not to panic. She was still armed. Turning to face it again, she watched as it tried to shake the blade loose rather than give her any mind. 

It was tall. Well over her head but she was used to getting to hard to reach places. With a running jump, she was able to sink her blade into its shoulder, using her body weight to drag it down into its chest.

She almost didn't get her feet underneath her when it dissolved into so much dust.

Rather than celebrate her first kill, Jules gathered her fallen blade and turned toward the next enemy. Cassandra and Morgan had gathered the rest in a tight clump under the rift. 

She glanced down at her hand, green light pulsing around the grip. She sheathed that weapon and followed the burning instinct to reach out to the rift. She knew it wouldn't close without the demons returning or being dispatched but something told her to do it anyway.

A stream of light shot from her palm to the rift. The tear in the Fade screamed as if it were a living creature, growing in pitch until a boom echoed. It was followed by a visible shockwave that blasted into the demons, but left everything else untouched.

The rift seemed to have shrunk into itself like a wounded creature, though it didn't disappear completely. The nightmares all seemed stunned, wandering disoriented among the enemies they had formerly been pursuing with rabid attention.

No one wasted the advantage by wondering why or how it came to be. They simply took the boon. Cassandra's blade with its blinding white edge cut through one. A hail of energy bolts rained on another. Morgan's gauntlets seemed to leak black liquid which quickly solidified into a vicious looking morning star. With a wide swing, he sunk the spiked weapon into the rage demon attacking him while Zevran finished off Varric’s pincushion.

There was one more. A hunger demon, starting to come to its senses. She didn't know if someone else had their eyes on it. Between her and it was another of the glowing circles. No demon popped out of the ground but when the hunger demon passed through, it shot forward, just as Morgan had. 

Surprised by its sudden advance, Jules brought her weapons up quickly to defend herself. Both blades sank deep into the demon’s chest, but it just pushed through so that it could reach her. Its eerie white eyes bored into her as one hand reached around her throat and lifted her off the ground. She tried to pull the blades out but didn’t have the room between them and she certainly wasn’t strong enough to cut through it without some kind of momentum. The mouth began to open impossibly wide and she got the odd feeling that she was being drawn into it, as if gravity had shifted. 

A gauntleted hand gripped the top of the demon’s head and pulled it back sharply while the other held the lower jaw in place. Jules couldn’t keep her blades or herself from falling to the ground when the demon disintegrated. 

Gasping, she rubbed her neck gingerly and squeezed her eyes shut.  _ Take a deep breath. And another. Another. Everything is fine. Open your eyes.  _

Jules did, immediately standing and thrusting her hand toward the rift. Again, the dull tone grew in pitch until the rift collapsed in on itself, imploding with a small bang. Not prepared for the backlash against the mark, it knocked her onto her backside. 

Immediately, Morgan was kneeling in front of her, concerned. “You alright, J?” He reached out, touching her knee gently.

She surprised herself by laughing. “Yeah. I’m-I think I’m okay.” She sounded bewildered, glancing around at the others. “I killed something. By myself! I mean, something almost killed me too but-I killed a demon!” Her surprise had morphed into excitement. None of them had ever seen her eyes so bright or such a large, genuine smile on her face. 

Morgan hauled her up to her feet. She didn’t even have a chance to catch her balance before Zevran wrapped his arms around her waist and picked her up off the ground. “You were sublime!” he cried, spinning her around before setting her down. He held her out at arms length, hands on her shoulders. “Fortitude and poise! A fearless predator!” Glancing around, he gestured to her while addressing the others. “Was she not a sight to behold?” His tone suggested that they’d best agree, and enthusiastically. 

“Sure was. Nice job, Precious.” Varric praised, resting Bianca over his shoulder. Morgan could only beam at her proudly with wet eyes. 

Cassandra sheathed her sword and bent to retrieve Jules’s weapons. “Indeed. You are a force to be reckoned with. One would never guess this was your first battle. Against demons, no less.” The Seeker was always reserved with her praise which made Jules appreciate it all the more. 

“Did any of you notice those circles? They were yellow and green, but not like the ones the demon’s travel through.” Jules wiped down her blades and sheathed them carefully. “Morgan and that last demon stepped into a yellow circle and it was like they just...shot forward.” Jules struggled to describe it. “Another seemed to slow down over a yellow mist. Was time magic created while I was away?” 

“No, it certainly wasn’t.” Cassandra sounded concerned, the celebratory air dissipating around them. “Perhaps it was an anomaly with this rift. We will keep an eye out for similar events in the future. Now, however, we are late for an engagement.” 

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The Gull and Lantern was a quiet, unassuming place. It felt far removed from the battlefield that they’d left in the hands of the Redcliffe guard. It was in a quieter part of the city with flowers in boxes under the windows that were alive, but barely. The five of them stuck out in front of the quaint building, armed and armored. Despite this, the people passing by the tucked-away side street paid them no mind. Even the most removed planets were feeling the pressure of war and such sights were commonplace now. 

Putting on an air of confidence, Jules led her small group into the tavern. It was a much larger building than it looked like on the outside. The building had an antique look with wood from ceiling to floor. Very little light filtered through the windows, making it hard to identify Fiona, the mage representative from the other huddled people scattered about the room. 

True, they were a little bit late, but she was sure the mage would understand given the circumstances of their delay. Jules spotted her toward the back, sitting next to a window that only looked out to a building nestled right up against the tavern. She indicated their direction to her companions, but as she turned and took a step forward, a tall man crossed her path, stumbling into her with a groan. 

Alarmed at the close contact of a stranger, Jules started to pull away. He was holding her hand, crushing her fingers together painfully. Morgan stepped forward menacingly but the man was already grumbling apologies and stumbling away. 

“Are you alright?” Morgan asked Jules, though he was still eyeing the man as he retreated. 

“I’m fine,” she said distractedly, opening her hand. A small, tightly folded wad of paper lay on her palm. She glanced at Fiona then turned toward her companions. “He gave me this.” Unfolding it carefully she read the words, only loud enough for the five of them to hear. 

“Fiona has no intention of allying with the Inquisition. She has promised the mages to a Tevinter Magister. You are in grave danger. You can find a valuable ally in the Chantry.” Jules looked up at the faces around her to gauge their reactions. 

“Should we take this to heart?” Cassandra took the note to scrutinize it, dark brows furrowing. 

“I dunno. Sounds like a murder-mystery dinner invitation,” Varric said. 

“I believe we should,” Zevran spoke up. “That this would be a joke that coincidentally happened into Jules’s hands is very unlikely. We should leave, preferably before Fiona sees us standing together like a herd of geese. We can discuss further and return if we so desire.” 

“I’m with Zexy.” Varric glanced around the tavern. “Magisters are bad, bad news.” 

With a decisive nod, Jules led them back out into the stale air of Redcliffe’s capital city. They started to head toward the city center, where the Chantry happened to be. 

“Now,” Morgan fell into step beside her. “Do we go to the Chantry or write this whole thing off?” 

“I thought we needed the mages. I mean, the Breach is magic, right? Or at least of the Fade. Mages know about that shit.” Varric spoke up. 

“They do, but if Tevinter is getting involved, I wouldn’t hold out hope that their goal would be to close the Breach. Rather, they would be looking to weaponize it. Were they successful, the war with the Qunari over the planet of Seheron would no longer be a war. It would only be a matter of time before they set their sights on larger, more populated planets and systems.” Cassandra’s words oozed bitterness. 

“The invitation may be a trap,” Zevran said casually, “but that does not mean we should not go. I know quite well how badly an ambush could go.” His wistful chuckle made Jules smile. She knew the Antivan was thinking about his fire-haired wife. 

Ahead of her, Cassandra and Morgan discussed strategy as they headed toward the Chantry. Varric and Zevran walked behind, exchanging ambush stories both as the victim and the perpetrator. That left Jules to her own thoughts. 

She glanced up at the sky. Though she couldn’t see it, she knew that  _ The Herald _ was up there, waiting for her. She could feel it, in the back of her mind. A persistent itch to get back to her. Though it was still undeniably difficult to leave her home, it was getting easier. She was getting more confident. Finding out who she was as a person. A great part of that was made possible by the people who surrounded her now and those who waited for her back on  _ The Herald _ . 

Cullen. Jules couldn’t help the smile that snuck up at the corner of her lips. He made her feel things she couldn’t have imagined in her wildest dreams. Beautiful. Confident.  _ Wanted _ . Not just romantically, though that was still a staggering thought. She was starting to believe she wasn’t a thing anymore. No longer a parasite that was tolerated for the benefits she supplied. She was valued and recognized. 

“Is that dreamy smile for the debonair First Commander?” Zevran’s teasing tone at her side startled her. With a gasp, she stumbled to the side and nearly into Varric. She was trapped between the two grinning men. 

“Dreamy?” Jules stammered. 

“Positively drooling, Precious.” Varric’s deep laughter made her cheeks turn pink. 

“Why do you keep calling me that? Kittens and babies are precious,” she said, trying to steer the subject away from her feelings for the Commander. 

“Precious? Jules?” Varric sounded surprised that she hadn’t put it together. “Jewels are precious stones. Your name is Jules. Granted it’s a different spelling. And yes, kittens and babies are precious. But so are you with that lovely crush blush.” 

Zevran threw his head back and laughed. Jules covered her face with her hands and she could feel the heat of her blush against her palms. He nudged her with his elbow. “So, is it,  _ passerotta? _ ” 

With a groan, she let her hands fall to her sides. “Yes, it is.” She couldn’t look either of them in the eyes. 

“He is a good man.” Zevran looked around her and down at Varric. “Much improved from the man we knew, no?”

Varric nodded. Despite his past experiences with Cullen, he had to admit he was a good man. Varric knew you couldn’t judge a person by their past. Only who they were trying to be in the present. “He’ll do right by you.” 

“He fucking better.” She heard Morgan grumble ahead of her. Jules hadn’t realized he was done talking with Cassandra. 

“Can we please focus on the issue at hand?” The Seeker gestured in front of them toward the looming Chantry building. 

“Yes, please,” Jules said with a relieved sigh. Her head tilted slightly as she looked at the dark, stained glass windows on the front of the building, flickering with an odd light. She suddenly became aware of the tingling on her marked palm. The realization slammed into her. “Rift!” She cried, pushing her way past Cassandra and Morgan. 

“Don’t be stupid!” Morgan shouted after her. He’d nearly been able to grab her but she’d slipped past him too quickly. 

Pushing one of the heavy oak doors open, the sounds of battle that had previously been muffled, became painfully obvious. She felt the burn of shame for letting herself get distracted. 

The rows of antique wooden pews were scorched and splintered. The crackling green light from the rift threw odd, disorienting shadows on the walls. Several piles of demon debris already littered the floor. At the head of the room, a mage fought three demons alone. Spells that left trails of purple mist shot from the head of his staff which was capped with some kind of small animal skull, the eyes glowing white. 

The mage himself looked frazzled. His hair was disheveled, some locks falling into his eyes. Blood smudged down one arm of his leather armor, adorned with buckles and findings of polished silverite. Beads of sweat turned his warm, dark skin almost golden in the odd colored light. 

Before she could let her fears get in the way, Jules drew her blades and charged forward. She’d gone into action quickly and quietly, giving her the advantage of a surprise attack on the demon nearest to her. This time, she didn’t underestimate the force she would need and severed the head at the neck. It dissolved into dust before it hit the floor, never even seeing its attacker. 

Varric’s energy bolts shot past her though she didn’t flinch at their close proximity. Within a few minutes, the demons were dispatched. “Do your thing, J.” Morgan and Cassandra took up a battle stance on either side of her. 

Closing one rift was tiring enough, but two, in such a short time was exhausting. The moment her ears popped from the pressure change of the closing rift she bent down to catch her breath, resting her hands on her knees. 

“Are you unwell,  _ passerotta _ ?” Zevran asked, his hand resting gently on the back of her shoulder. 

With a steadying breath, she nodded and stood to give him a reassuring smile. “Yes, I’m fine. Just tired.” Jules looked up to find the mage walking toward them, looking just as frazzled as she felt. 

“I am very grateful for your assistance.” After a flourishing bow, he righted his hair and twirled the tip of his mustache between his fingertips. “My name is Dorian Pavus. I am here to save you and your Inquisition.” 

“I-um-well. Thank you?” Jules floundered, unsure of what to think or do in this situation. “How, exactly are you involved?” 

“That you are here means that you’ve met Felix.” Dorian opened his mouth to continue, but Varric held up a hand. 

“I think we would remember meeting someone named Felix. Is Felix a cat? You look like the kind of guy who would have a cat. What with the mustache and all.” He chuckled and looked around for agreement but cleared his throat and looked down at the grown when he saw Cassandra’s scowl. 

“No.” Dorian was clearly unimpressed. “Felix was the one who headed you off in the tavern. He is the son of Magister Alexius, my teacher. Alexius is also the man that your rebel mages have allied themselves with and by extension, the Venatori.” 

Jules waited patiently for him to continue, but he didn’t. “Maybe I’m just...uninformed, but who are the Venatori?” 

“We have heard whisperings of the Venatori,” Cassandra spoke up, “they are a sect-” 

“Unsanctioned cult.” Dorian cut in. 

“-of mages from Tevinter. They seek to bring Tevinter back to the heights of its previous glory. 

“By using Ferelden mages?” Jules asked, confused. 

“Indeed. By promising them the freedom that Tevinter’s mages enjoy. He was so eager to employ, or rather indenture them, that he used very unstable time magic to beat you here and to the mages’ alliance.” With a sigh, Dorian looked at each member of her group. “His continued use of such magic can only result in one of two outcomes. The return of the Elder One, whom the Venatori believe will bring them back to power or the complete destruction of the fabric of the universe as we know it.” 

The Chantry was silent. “Oh.” Jules finally broke the awkward pause. “Well, those both sound...bad.” 

“That’s putting it mildly,” Varric muttered. 

“How might we prevent either, or both, of these less than desirable futures?” Zevran asked. 

“He intends to use the mages’ assistance to open a rift, of sorts, into the past. Before your interference at the Temple of Ashes.” He looked pointedly at Jules. “That mark was not intended for you.” He gestured vaguely at her glowing palm. “He intends to perform this ritual at Redcliffe Castle here in the capital city. He must be stopped and I cannot do it alone.” 

“I would imagine he knows we’re here by now.” Morgan pointed out. “Wouldn’t he be expecting us to try and stop him?” Dorian nodded gravely. “Well, it seems we were right about the trap part, we just got the when and where wrong.” 

“We should return to  _ The Herald  _ for reinforcements.” Cassandra’s grave voice made Jules worry. 

“I’m afraid we do not have time for that.” Dorian countered. “Their intention was for Fiona to lure you there after your meeting with her. She will have most likely returned there when you did not show up for your appointment. We can use that in some way.”

“During the Blight, the beautiful Warden’s little group needed to infiltrate the same castle. There is a secret passage that we might employ.” Zevran told them. “We can use Jules as a distraction, allowing us to attack from behind and flank them. She could approach, apologize for the delay.” He suggested.

“I don’t like this idea,” Morgan growled. 

“If I accompany her, there will be no suspicions as to how she knew where to go.” It made sense to Jules, but Cassandra’s scoff and Morgan’s furrowed brows made her think that perhaps she’d misread the situation. 

“If you think we’re going to let her go, unaccompanied, with a strange  _ Tevinter _ mage that we don’t know, you’re mad. And that’s saying a lot about someone who is already spewing madness about “time” magic.” Morgan stepped closer to Jules, his arms crossing over his chest in a protective stance. 

“I don’t think you understand how grave the situation is.” Dorian scowled back at Morgan. 

“I don’t think you understand how precious Precious is to us.” Varric’s voice was also taking on a protective edge. Zevran was silent behind her but she could feel the threatening aura radiating off of him. 

Dorian closed his eyes and took a deep breath, clearly trying to keep his impatience in check. “Fine. Whoever accompanies us must be as unintimidating as possible.”

“Well, that rules out the Seeker and Beefcake,” Varric said, glancing at Zevran. “That just leaves you and I, Zexy. We’re both pretty good at playing pretend.” 

“Alexius would find an elf to be far less threatening than a dwarf. Elves are slaves in Tevinter and Magister’s generally look down on slaves. If you have no visible weapons and act the part of a servant you will be nearly invisible. No offense meant,” Dorian said to Zevran. 

“None taken, my friend!” Zevran said with a grin. “Many have regretted underestimating me before their swift death. I have never been part of the death of one so illustrious as a Magister. Briall will be quite jealous that I have had such fun without her!” One of Dorian’s brows raised in surprise, but none of her other companions were surprised by his odd declaration. 

“If you’re going with Jules, how will we find the secret passage?” Morgan asked. 

“Leliana just sent me the blueprints for the castle,” Cassandra said, holding a palm-sized pad toward Zevran. “You can show us on this.” 

“That was fast.” Morgan looked impressed. “We  _ just  _ found out we were going there.” 

Varric chuckled. “You’ve only seen a little of what Nightingale is capable of. That request was nothing. She didn’t even have to pause filing her nails.”

“Indeed,” Zevran said with an air of nostalgia. “She is a woman of many enviable talents. Some of which I passed on to her.” 

“We must move quickly.” Dorian reminded them, annoyed at their banter. 

“We still don’t trust you,” Morgan told the mage. “And if anything happens to my aunt-” Dorian looked confused by that but his attention was drawn to Zevran when he interrupted.

“He will not live long enough for you to take revenge. I will have already killed him.” Zevran said it with a smile, though his eyes were anything but cordial. 

“Yes, fine. Death to the mage. Can we please go now?” Dorian asked impatiently. 

“I’ll be fine. I’ll see you all soon.” Jules said, giving Morgan’s arm a reassuring squeeze. 

After handing his visible weapons to Cassandra, Zevran offered Jules his arm and she accepted it with a smile. “After you, dear Magister.” He offered, gesturing with his free hand.

With a frustrated huff, Dorian stalked past them. “I’m  _ not _ a magister.” 

Quietly, he led them through town, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. They were let into the castle without question, Dorian leading them directly to the main hall. The woman Jules recognized as Fiona stood beside another, taller man who was richly adorned in gold and crimson robes. 

Zevran walked several paces behind Jules and Dorian, eyes averted to the floor. 

“Mistress Trevelyan. I feared you abandoned us when you didn’t show for our meeting.” Fiona said by way of greeting. 

“Surely you’ve heard of the rift I closed by now? Besides, it seems you’ve already promised yourself and your mages to Tevinter.” Jules tried to sound commanding but felt that she was failing miserably. 

Fiona’s fake smile turned her insecurities to anger. “Not to Tevinter. To Magister Alexius. We both seek to see mages returned to their rightful status and not subjugated. 

The lavishly dressed man stepped forward. His smile seemed genuine enough to Jules, but she was sure it wasn’t. He was just better at faking it than Fiona. “It is not just for the betterment of mages. My son, Felix, is ill.” Alexius gestured to the young man standing behind them. The same man who had bumped into her at the inn. “The Elder One has promised to cure him. You must understand that a father would do anything for his son.” 

Jules heard Dorian snort beside her. Alexius didn’t seem to hear it. “As the mages are under my command and they are required to seal the Breach, perhaps we can come to an agreement? What can the Inquisition offer in exchange for my assistance?” 

“It does not sound as if the Inquisition and the Venatori have the exact same goals. We simply share a road for a while,” Jules said, feeling more sure of herself. 

“How do you know of the Venatori?” Alexius asked darkly. 

“I told her,” Dorian said, sounding both casual and resigned. 

“You?” Alexius turned his gaze to the mage. “You would betray me so?” 

“It wasn’t just him, father.” Felix stepped forward. 

Alexius didn’t even glance at his son. “And you have turned my own child against me.” An accusation rather than a question this time. 

“The path you walk is dangerous,” Felix argued, standing beside Dorian. “The Elder One-”

“Can save Tevinter, and you!” Alexius’s rage was barely held in check. “If it wasn’t for the interference of this one our glory would already be restored!” 

“This Elder One, he was responsible for Conclave and the death of the Divine?” Jules frowned. “A more powerful mage would be able to control his spell. Are you so sure he is your salvation?” 

“He is a mage with the power of a god and a god he will be once the mark is his, as it rightfully should be. Mages will rule all the galaxies, as is their right. Those with power should be in power.” Alexius reasoned, his fists clenched. 

Fiona spoke up, suddenly unsure of her allegiance to this man. “We want equality, not supremacy.” 

“You have been blinded. This is not the glory we seek for Tevinter!” Dorian argued, stepping forward. “This is not what we wanted for our people. What this Elder One promises cannot be real. He speaks falsely to gain your trust. He will turn on you in the end. ” 

“Father, I cannot be saved. I have come to terms with my death. You have been driven mad by it. This will only end in destruction for all. Including Tevinter. This is not how you save her or me.” Felix pleaded with his father, though it sounded as if he already knew it would not work. 

With a clatter, the first of Alexius’s men fell to the ground. Cassandra stepped out of the shadows behind him. Several energy bolts felled more guards. Morgan and Varric joined them. 

Alexius’s eyes became panicked. “You will see,” he promised, pulling an amulet from his robes. It started to glow and raise from his palm. “Once I fix this, you will see!” 

“No!” Dorian’s cry was accompanied by the roar of magic as his spell met the field around the amulet. His attempt to halt the magic was catastrophic. With a blinding flash of light, a rift opened before them with a blast that sent everyone off their feet. She felt the weight of Dorian’s body slam into hers and darkness took before she even hit the ground. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading. I know this was a long chapter but there wasn't a very good spot to break it up. On a different note, SMUT NEXT CHAPTER! Not for Jules though. (Sorry.) I'm using this story to explore a rare-pair I've wanted to try out forever! Hopefully, you're looking forward to the smut anyway!
> 
> Again, thank you for all of your love and support!
> 
> <3 Jacks


	8. The Origin of Jasoom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one in which we find out where the hell Jasoom came from. Also, there's some smut for a super rare-pair. And some other stuff happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here it is. The answer to Jasoom. Fair warning: I cried writing this so buckle up for an emotional ride.

He knew that he was dying. Yet, all of the fear he felt wasn’t for himself. He didn’t know what sort of creature he heard from the vent by his cage. It sounded young to him somehow. When it spoke to itself in the long hours, the voice was high and bright. He could hear the loneliness in its sobs and feel the despair when it cried out in its sleep. His life in that small metal box had been a horrific trial of both pain and utter boredom. He hated to think of another suffering the same fate.

He now lay on his side, struggling past the pain in his ribs to draw in air. His matted black fur was thin and brittle. Patches were missing where he had been shaved for an IV or procedure or where it had simply fallen out. He couldn’t feel his feet or the end of his tail.

Yet, as much as he wished for death, he wished to stay. Though he didn’t know what the creature looked like, it didn’t matter. He could  _ feel _ it. Feel  _ for _ it. They had that connection. He, too, had lain awake at night, yowling in pain and fear. He’d gotten used to the loneliness years ago, but he remembered what it felt like. 

There were times since it had arrived that he’d had enough strength to make noises to it. He knew it could hear him because it would stop talking or crying to listen. It had even started making noises back at him. Mimicking his meow or starting to chatter to him softly. Those nights grew rarer for him as he grew weaker. Enough so that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had the strength to make any noise. 

Just then, he heard it. Chattering to him in nonsense noises that meant nothing to him. Despite that, he knew well enough what it was doing. It was simply filling the time. It spoke lovingly and he was even gifted with a rare giggle. 

It was unfair. The people in pristine white coats, stealing their lives from them. Their laughter. Replacing it instead with despair and pain. But that wasn’t something to fill one’s last thoughts with. Instead, he listened to it meow, sing, and talk to him. 

There was a loud clatter and metal scraping against metal before it went silent. It started to cry, quietly. Resigned almost. Another clattering and everything was silent. It was gone. It was scared to go as it always was. He tried to lift his head but couldn’t. Couldn’t even open his eyes. If only he could wish for one freedom in his life, it would be to find that poor creature and comfort it. Let it comfort him. If only he had died sooner, he could have left listening to its sweet noises. Instead, he could only burn with anger. 

He suddenly felt an odd sensation. A feeling of warmth coming from seemingly nowhere. And it called to him. It didn’t speak, or even make noise, but he knew exactly what it was trying to communicate. 

- _ Do you want to help her?- _ Her? Yes. 

- _ You can’t save her. _ \- I know. 

_ -You won’t be here. I will use your materials after you go _ .- But she won’t be alone? Ever again?

_ -No _ .-

He gave his assent with no hesitation. Finally, he could let go without regret. He would find peace knowing it- _ she _ would no longer be alone as he had been.

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The body was old beyond its years and incredibly fragile. The spirit was amazed that the cat had attracted his attention. The soul made up in strength what the body lacked. The spirit wasn’t very strong himself. A minor spirit that others, even demons, paid no mind to. Not strong enough to manipulate the fade around it as other spirits could. Yet this creature had called to the spirit. Not for itself, but for another.

Its need was so strong and spoke to him in such a way that he couldn’t resist its call. There were several creatures here who suffered. But none more so than the creature this cat had bonded with, unseen and untouched. The body would take time to heal, but it-he, now-was strong enough to move it. The memories he sifted through were largely unpleasant so he ignored them and focused on those of the girl in the cell. 

He slipped into the space between the Fade and the physical realm. For most, the Veil was a barrier between the two. For the lesser spirits, it could be traversed in small distances. They were the spiritual vermin in the walls. He found her quickly. Unconscious on a stark white bed. Odd machinery was connected to her, some appearing to assist and others seemingly to restrain her. 

Feeling the hints of her emotions, he sensed she would be waking soon. This had never happened before. Her body being opened. She would be in pain. Scared. 

But no longer alone. 

With a struggle, he hopped onto the bed. He stepped up onto her stomach and then over her chest, settling where he could feel her heart beating. She was warm and he hoped that his body, curled against hers, would provide her with the same feeling. 

When he finally felt her stir, he started purring. He didn’t even mean to. Didn’t know he could. He just did. A soft vibration deep in his chest. Her eyes opened, mossy green and glassy with drugs. When they focused on him, she gasped softly. For the immediate moment, the drugs that clouded her mind kept the pain at bay and let her focus on him. 

Her lopsided smile made him purr louder. He stretched out his neck to brush his cheek against her chin and was rewarded with a giggle. She couldn’t move to pet him, but he somehow knew that she wanted to. She started to talk but he didn’t understand her. He would, someday, so he listened to her happy noises and the memories of the feline came back. How much it had meant to him to connect with her through that long vent. 

He could feel it too. The peace of companionship. He was glad he had answered the call. In the Fade, he had no purpose and served no cause. 

Now, he belonged to this little girl. 

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Jules woke with a headache so strong she could hear the rush of her pulse echoing in her ears. With a groan, she reached up to pet Jasoom, feeling the vibration of his purr against her breastbone. His silky fur against her palm and fingers was instantly calming. Though she didn’t want to, Jules opened her eyes. 

She was in some sort of cell. With a quick glance around, she noticed that the Tevinter mage, Dorian, was with them as well. Zevran had also been close to her when Alexius’s spell was interrupted, but she didn’t see him nearby. Jasoom hopped off of her chest to allow her to sit up. She shook Dorian’s shoulder and he woke with a shout. 

“Hey! Sorry!” She said quickly, holding up her hands to show she meant no harm. “It’s just us.” 

Dorian nodded before running his hands through his hair. Once he was satisfied with the result, he righted his curling mustache, pinching it between his fingers to ensure every hair was in the correct place. Jules, on the other hand, didn’t even notice that much of her hair had fallen out of the elastic band. 

“Jas, can you go see if anyone else is around here?” She asked, pushing herself to her feet. With one raised brow, Dorian watched the midnight black cat slip through the shimmering blue anti-magic barrier and between the metal bars. 

“ _ That  _ is not a cat,” he said with a definitive pointing of his finger. “A cat most certainly cannot do that. What is that?” __

Jules shrugged, checking her weapons which were oddly still at her side. “That’s Jasoom.” 

“That does not answer my question.” Dorian pointed out. 

She took out her hair, combing her fingers roughly through it before putting it back up. “I don’t know what he is. Solas thinks he’s a spirit, Varric thinks he’s some kind of mythical trickster god and Morgan thinks he’s the physical manifestation of the innocence I lost as a child trying to protect me as an adult.”

Dorian was at a loss for words. The last one, especially, would require a much longer conversation than they had time for. Instead, he just cleared his throat. “I see.” 

“You’re a mage, can’t you get us out?” Jules asked, walking toward their cell entrance.

“I am, but I can’t get us out of here. That blue barrier prevents it. At best, it will absorb my magic, at worst throw it back at me or even both of us.” She reached out to touch the shimmering blue field but he slapped her arm down. “I wouldn’t do that unless you’d like a numb arm for the next hour or so.” 

“Oh,” Jules felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. “Thank you.” 

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he scrutinized her though not in a menacing way. “You’re welcome.” 

They both glanced over when Jasoom trotted back to the door of their cell, sat down and promptly started to wash his face. 

“ _ Passerotta _ !” Zevran’s voice instantly brightened her mood. “We are lucky to have this  _ bel gatto _ . Now, to get you out of here.” 

“You can bypass the locking codes?” Dorian asked, hopefully. 

“No, I am terrible at such things. Luckily, I found a friend who was willing to let me borrow her passcard in exchange for an unexpected nap.” Zevran swiped the card and immediately the barrier dissipated as the bars slid into the floor. 

“How did you get out of your cell?” Jules asked curiously. 

“My debonair looks and silver tongue, of course!” Zevran laughed.

Jasoom wound himself between Jules’s ankles, brushing his head against her boots. She knelt down obediently and he jumped up onto her shoulder. Dorian watched all of this with great interest, seemingly amazed at her comfortable friendship with the…. _ Jasoom _ . 

Zevran fell into step beside Jules, Dorian following closely behind. “I have seen no one else thus far, friend or foe.” 

“I believe we are still inside Redcliff, though it looks as though it’s been through a war,” Dorian commented, brushing his hand over a scorch mark on the wall. “Unlikely that my interference with Alexius’s spell did this.” 

As they walked through the corridors of empty cells, Jules became more and more uneasy. Where was Morgan? Cassandra or Varric? Had they been injured or killed? Was that why they weren’t in nearby cells?

“Hello?” A faint voice sounded from a cell not too far ahead of them. Inside was Fiona, looking aged and haggard. Her robes were stained and ripped, short black hair sticking out in all angles. “Ms. Trevelyan. What a surprise indeed. That you of all people would suddenly reappear in front of me. We thought you three were all dead after that little spell debacle a year ago.” 

“I’m sorry. A-a year?” Jules stuttered, eyes wide. 

“Spell debacle?” Dorian tapped his chin thoughtfully. “If I simply interrupted the natural path of Alexius’s spell, perhaps I can bring us back.”

“What are you doing down here?” Jules asked, looking pointedly at her cell door. 

“Has your alliance with Alexius not borne fruit?” Zevran’s scornful tone left no doubt about how he felt regarding her current predicament. 

“Alexius is mad and he grows more so by the day. As he fiddles with his failed spells, the Elder One consumes the world. He has an army of demons at his disposal. The Empress of Orlais has been killed and the system has fallen to him. Alexius is but a puppet, one that is quickly outliving its usefulness. If he can not prevent the incident at Conclave, then the Elder One will kill him and continue as he has.” She laughed bitterly. “Once he finds that you have returned,  _ Herald of Andraste _ , he will have what he needs, even if he does not possess it himself as he hopes to.” 

She sat forward, face dangerously close to the shimmering barrier of her cell. “If this is but a fluke in a spell, as you say it is, you must reverse it. You  _ must  _ prevent the rise of the Elder One and above all, keep the mark out of his possession. Your hand is the key to everything.” 

“Your spymaster was taken not too long ago. The final stone ripped from the foundation of the crumbling Inquisition. Perhaps she can assist.” Fiona sat back again, turning away from them to lean against a wall. “I can’t do anything to help you, for I myself am beyond help and redemption. I created this world and now I must die in it.” 

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Cassandra threw another punch at the focus mitts Bull held up for her before brushing the sweat from her brow. 

“You know, if you keep scowling like that, people will think you’re unapproachable.” His teasing tone made her glower. A series of quick strikes made his hands ache. She was a tough one. “Really, though. What’s with the attitude?” 

“Attitude?” Cassandra fairly snarled at him. “It isn’t attitude, it’s failure.” 

“Really? The way that Morgan tells it, there wasn’t anything you could have done. Just like there isn’t anything that you can do right now. Waiting sucks, but that’s where we’re at right now. What you need is a distraction.” 

“This is a distraction,” she said as she continued to throw punches. 

“No, this fueling your anger and self-loathing. You need to take your mind off of it.” He lowered his hands, forcing her to stop. With a disgusted sigh, she turned and started to take off her gloves. “When’s the last time you came?” 

Cassandra spun around, eyes wide and furious. “ _ Excuse me?” _

“Came? Orgasmed, released, climaxed? It’s good for you. And that’s science, not just me sayin’ it. Don’t you take care of yourself at least once in a while?” Bull asked curiously. He tossed her a towel, but she ignored it and it fell between her feet. 

“I don’t see how that’s  _ any _ of your business,” she snapped. 

“I didn’t say it was. I’m just saying that’s my go-to when I’m stressed. It’s a suggestion, Seeker. No offense meant.” Bull chuckled.

“Are you suggesting I have sex with you to forget my troubles?” Cassandra scoffed.

“Handsome woman such as yourself, you’d best believe I wouldn’t say no”' He turned away and tossed aside the focus mitts. “A partner is always more fun. However, that isn’t what I was suggesting. I’m sure you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself, just as you are in all aspects of your life. I’m just telling you that it  _ helps.” _ He wiped his face and neck with another towel and turned to face her again. With a surprised grunt, he found the Seeker up against him, lips pressed to his. Despite her prudish attitude, she was really quite good at it and he found himself caught up for a moment. 

Gently, he grasped her shoulders and pushed her away. “Seriously, not what I was suggesting.” He cleared his throat to push down the want that suddenly welled up inside of him. Even with her acerbic personality, she really was an ideal sexual partner. Strong, confident, assertive. She checked off all of his boxes. 

“So, you  _ are _ saying no?” she asked, hazel eyes surprised. 

He blinked slightly. “No…” Bull almost phrased it like a question. “Are you saying that you  _ do _ want to fuck?” 

Cassandra let out a disgusted noise. “Crude, but yes. I thought I made that quite obvious. I’m starting to change my mind.” She took a step back, crossing her arms over her chest. 

He couldn’t help but grin crookedly. “Did you know that your accent gets more pronounced when you’re irritated. It is incredibly sexy. I have ground rules though.” 

“Fine.” She acquiesced, somewhat moodily as gestured with one hand to continue. 

“The safe word is “katoh”. If one of us says it, everything comes to a complete stop. No questions asked other than “are you okay”. Agreed?” Cassandra nodded shortly. “Second rule, you talk to me. I don’t mean dirty, though that is hot as fuck and you’re welcome to if you’d like. You tell me if you don’t like something or you need something different. It would be nice for you to tell me what you like, but I’m usually pretty good at figuring that out on my own.”

“Fine. Anything else?” Cassandra asked after a moment. 

“Nope. You got anything?” he asked with a grin that made her want to slap him and jump him at the same time. 

“No endearments. I’m not your baby, or your princess, or your sugar tits.” Bull raised a questioning brow at the specificity of the last one. She rolled her eyes. “Varric,” she said by way of explanation. That made Bull throw his head back with a boisterous laugh that filled the gym.

“Fair enough.” He finally managed to get out, wiping away a tear. “What else?” 

“No one knows,” she said sternly. “It’s not that I’m embarrassed-” She stopped when Bull held up a hand.

“No explanation needed. I respect you too much to kiss and tell,” Bull promised. Cassandra was surprised by that, but the expression that told him so was fleeting. It morphed into something completely different. Something that prompted him to hook two fingers over the band of her workout pants and haul her against him. 

It was like he had unleashed something inside of her that she normally kept deeply hidden. She was responsive and almost possessive, far removed from the aloof and stoic Seeker she normally presented. Hooking her hand around his neck, she pulled his head down to crush their lips together. 

His hands moved around her, one under and one above her tight leggings to grip the swell of her backside, kneading with strong fingers. Cassandra broke the kiss, already breathing hard. “Privacy.” She managed to get out. 

With a grunt of agreement, he kissed her feverishly once more before leading her out of the gym. The Bull’s ship,  _ the Ataashi _ , was mostly empty. The Chargers themselves had remained on  _ the Herald _ to make room for those who needed to be planet-side to prepare for, and await, Jules’s return. Especially First Commander Rutherford, whose mood had been rather dampened by the news of her disappearance. He was unusually snappy and people were giving him a wide berth as a result. 

Leading her to his small, but comfortable suite he was surprised by her fervor when she pushed him back against a wall as soon as the door slid shut. She pulled back and peeled off her training top and bra. He knew how difficult it could be to remove tight garments, especially after a sweaty workout or rousing fight. 

Bull felt his cock twitch at the sight of her bare breasts. Smaller than some but pert with dark nipples and creamy skin. Cassandra wasn’t a classic beauty, with soft curves and graceful lines. She was a warrior, tall and lean. Instead of a pillowy bosom or flaring hips, she had defined abs and ropes of muscle beneath her scarred skin. Not elegance or fragility. Undeniable power and confidence. 

“You are remarkable,” Bull growled, stepping toward her and caging her with her arms as he lifted her against him. “I knew there was fire in you.” 

Her only response was to hum in the affirmative, hooking her long legs around his hips. She was taller than most women and that suited him just fine. He walked to his bed, one that took up a great deal of space in the room, and dropped her down on it. 

She immediately laid back, peeling her leggings down her hips. When she lifted them he took over, taking her smalls and stripping them off with her pants. They fell to the floor, forgotten immediately. Cassandra didn’t give him time to admire her before she sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed. 

Glancing up as she started to undo the fastening of his pants she shivered at the predatory look in his eye. Despite shaking hands, she got them undone in quick order. She said something under her breath when his massive cock was freed, eyes widening. “It’s true what they say about you.” 

“That Qunari are well endowed?” He sounded infinitely amused. 

“No, just that you are.” Bull would have laughed were it not for her hand wrapping tightly around him. Though her hands were calloused from years of wielding large weapons, it wasn’t unpleasant in the least. 

“Worried?” he asked through an exhale as she stroked him. 

“Determined.” Her unhesitating answer was intoxicating. 

“We’ll make it work.” The sultry promise set her already heated blood on fire. “Lay back.” 

She did, scooting a little further up to the center of the bed. He settled beside her, pressed against her side as his mouth descended to one pert nipple. She gasped and bit back a moan. His large hand slid down her stomach and between her thighs. Bending one knee, she laid her leg to the side, giving him full access. 

Bull’s middle finger slid between her lips, spreading her slick arousal as he explored from her clit to her cunt and back again. Her arm moved around him and he felt her nails drag down his shoulder blade when he slid two thick fingers inside of her. He curled them slightly but paused at her hiss. 

“Andraste preserve me,” she breathed out. “That, I like that.” 

With a grin, he gave her tight nipple a love bite as he began to work her. His palm ground against her clit and he felt her clench around his fingers. He started to kiss his way up her chest. “Marks?” he asked throatily. 

“I suppose, just nowhere visible,” she could barely talk around the moans as his fingers increased their pace. She felt his mouth suction to her collarbone, tongue teasing. Cassandra struggled to keep her hips on the bed, wanting to move against his incredibly talented hand. 

Bull lifted his head to admire his work before watching her face. Her eyes were screwed shut but he could see it nonetheless. “You’re close, aren’t you?” 

She nodded, panting. Her expression changed suddenly. “Maker’s bre-stop-” she struggled for a moment to remember the word “katoh!”

He withdrew his hand, leaning back slightly to give her space. “You okay?” 

“Yes, I just-” she drew in a breath. “When I finish I-its-some men don’t-” She stuttered, struggling to get out whatever it was she was trying to convey. Bull waited patiently despite his aching cock. “I-when you use that spot, with your fingers or your-” Cassandra cleared her throat, “-it makes me-” Her cheeks were a furious red, and not just from arousal. 

Slowly, a grin came to his face. “Cassandra Pentaghast. Are you a squirter?” 

She groaned, closing her eyes and laying her head back, wishing she could disappear into the mattress. “Yes.” Her voice was short and clipped, hard with her accent. “If that bothers you, I can-I should have said sooner.” As she opened them again, he found her hazel eyes pensive and shielded. She was prepared for rejection. 

He grunted and climbed off the bed, returning with a towel. With a small gesture to get her to lift her hips, he folded it in half and laid it under her. “Will that make you feel better?” At her nod, he climbed back onto the bed and resumed his position on his side next to her. 

His fingers slid back into her tight heat, curling and pumping slowly. “You have been sorely mistreated by past lovers because that is incedibly fucking hot.” 

She reacted immediately, closing her eyes and rolling her hips against his hand. Whatever idiot had made her feel ashamed of her body certainly didn’t deserve to see this wild, uninhibited side of Cassandra. 

His lover, however, had other plans. She flipped him onto his back with a maneuver that surprised him. He wasn’t used to being physically manipulated in such a way. Most people couldn’t flip him, even with good leverage. With a hearty laugh, he gripped her thighs as she straddled him and urged her to grind against him, his cock sliding between her lips to tease her clit with the swollen head.

Cassandra found his crooked grin and eager gaze rather rewarding. Bull took the hint as she lifted herself and he gripped the base of his cock. There was an odd playfulness in her eyes. Her hips made small movements, teasing before she gave both of them relief. She slid over his cock a mere few inches before lifting again, only to sink a little further down. 

Bull hummed in appreciation, intently watching his length disappear ever further into her tight sheath. After a few determined strokes, she sank over him completely and he let out a groan, fingers gripping her thighs tight enough to leave marks. 

His eyes roamed higher, watching the heavy rise and fall of her chest and he couldn’t resist reaching for a breast. She surprised him by palming the other and letting out a soft whimper. The girth of his hips made it hard for her to lift her own but the shallow thrusts that buried him completely were more than satisfactory. 

Looking higher still, he watched the pleasure on her face and savored the strange sight. Her short hair clung together and the sheen on her skin almost made her glow. She leaned back and he bent his legs slightly to allow her to brace herself. He knew that she was seeking. That spot again that would make her come for him like a fountain. 

Resting her hands behind her on his thighs gave him the loveliest view of all of her core muscles working in harmony to ride him. "Fuck, yes," he growled, kneading her breast as she panted. 

She bit her lip as the motion of her hips grew erratic. His hand rested on the mound of her pubic bone, the rough pad of his thumb teasing her pearl. With a gasp she tightened around him, forcing a responding groan. He was going to have to picture some incredibly unpleasant things if she didn't finish soon. There was no way he was going to ruin this for her.

Cassandra’s eyes found his and she opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Grinning at her speechlessness, Bull redoubled his efforts, surging his hips up to meet her thrusts as his thumb worked tight circles over her clit. 

“You’re there, I know you are.” He could feel her tensing, maybe even holding back. “Just let go, Cassandra.” 

Her nails dug into his thighs as her head fell back with a low moan. It was muffled, likely by her biting her lip or clenching her teeth but that didn’t make it any less enjoyable for either of them. He felt the soft jets of her release against his stomach as she came, riding him until he thought he might burst. Since they hadn’t discussed where he was, or wasn’t, allowed to finish he held back. It was damn hard, but that would have been a violation by his standards. 

Bull found he didn’t have to worry. Even as her tight cunt was still spasming with her release, she leaned forward and braced herself against his chest. His cock slipped out with a small motion of her hips, but she continued to grind against him, pressing his cock between his lower stomach and her wet slit. The friction was certainly enough to bring him to his end without the disappointment of pausing pleasure to finish in a hand. She was far better at this than he’d pegged her for. 

With a sound somewhere between a growl and a shout, he came as well. Jets of seed mixed with the slick from her orgasm on his stomach. As his shout died down, she threw herself to the side and collapsed onto her back beside him. 

“ _ Vashedan _ ,” Bull grunted, looking over at her as much as his horns would allow. “That was fucking hot.” 

Cassandra opened her eyes to look at him for a moment then chuckled, closing them again. “Yes, I suppose it was.” He could tell she was using her training to slow her breathing and regain control of her body. Sitting up, she scooted from the bed. Finding the hideaway with the towels, she tossed him one. After she’d cleaned herself up, she started dressing. 

“I didn’t take you for a cuddler but you’re leaving already?” Bull asked with a smile, wiping off his stomach. “I’ll be the little spoon if that’s more your thing.” 

“I have work to do and I’m relieving Cullen on watch in Redcliff in a half hour. I’ll see you later Bull.” She was fully dressed and out the door before he’d gotten off the bed. The door was half closed before it slid open again. She appeared briefly for a moment. “Thank you.” Then she was gone again. An abrupt ending to their encounter, but his ego wasn’t bruised in the slightest. That had been fantastic.

With a smirk, he shook his head. “The pleasure was all mine, warrior goddess.” 

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“I’m not sure I understand why a Chantry has the need for such a large number of prison cells.” Jules glanced down yet another hallway of barred rooms,

“And torture chambers. Truly, religion is a strange thing.” Zevran chuckled, flipping a small dagger in the air and catching it by the blade between slim, deft fingers. 

“I don’t believe these were all cells originally. This was all part of the servants quarters. The dungeon was confined to the lower level where we were. If there is a war going on then it would make se-” Dorian was cut off by a scream. Female and familiar. 

“That was Leliana!” Jules cried, turning to try and find the source. Another tortured scream made their way to them, fading away though it continued to echo loudly in Jules’s ears. Or, perhaps just in her mind. “Jasoom, go find her!” The cat jumped off of her shoulder, but never landed on the floor, disappearing into a grey, swirling portal.

“This way.” Dorian was decisive, turning down the next corridor. They nearly sprinted past the door, when they heard another agonized cry from just behind them. Zevran was the first to respond, pivoting with incredible grace and stopping in front of the door. 

He tried his stolen keycard, but it didn’t work. Another scream sounded but cut off abruptly. The sound of a struggle immediately ensued, punctuated by viscous growls and warning hisses. The Antivan started to pound on the door, shouting in his native tongue. Dorian hissed at him to be quiet, but he ignored the mage. It didn’t matter if more came.

“Gimme the card!” Jules slapped Zevran’s shoulder to get his attention. He gave it to her and she slid it into the receptacle as she fiddled with the panel. The tips of her fingers glowed an odd blue, lines fading back toward her palm.

The door slid open and Jules saw Jasoom sitting on top of someone on a metal table, crouched low and hissing, one paw raised to attack should the interrogator come any closer. 

“What the fu-” the blade Zevran had been playing with was buried into the throat of the man who turned toward them, long thin scratches running down his cheek. He pushed the man aside as he fell making his way to the table. By the time Jules and Dorian were able to catch up to him, he was already at Leliana’s side. 

“ _ Sorella rossa _ !” Zevran touched her cheek gently and she opened tired eyes to look up at him.

“You’re alive,” she breathed out, incredulous. Jules cut her bonds while Zevran tried to help her sit up. Jasoom sat at the end of the table, watching the door while the three humans tended to the red-headed spymaster. Leliana looked up at her long-time friend and for a moment, it looked like she might cry. “Where have you been? We thought you were dead.” 

Zevran’s face immediately darkened with intense emotion. “Did you tell Bri?” 

Leliana nodded solemnly. “Myself, in person.” Jules was sure it was meant to comfort him, that she’d been told by a friend her husband had perished, but she was equally sure it didn’t lessen the grief. For a moment, she imagined how she would feel if she had been told of Cullen’s death. A painful tightening of her chest made her push the thought into the back of her mind. 

“We’ll get back,” Jules spoke up, “she’ll never know we were gone.” 

“Get back?” Leliana asked sharply, daring to let the slightest hint of hope creep into her voice. 

Dorian nodded. “That is the idea. When we interrupted the spell Alexius was casting, it didn’t kill us, just threw us forward a bit.”

Leliana looked back up at Zevran. “You have to get back. You have to change this.” 

“We know, we will,” Jules promised. 

“No, you  _ don’t _ know!” Leliana snapped and then immediately winced. She pressed a hand to her side and it came away crimson. “This is just a misplaced moment in time for you. I have lived this. The whole world has suffered. For a  _ year _ . Death is everything now. There is no hope, or happiness. There is just clinging to the edge by the tips of your fingers so that you can survive one more day.” 

The lines and wariness in Leliana’s face seemed more pronounced now. It was as if she had aged 12 years instead of 12 months. She closed her eyes for a moment, in dire need of a rest. She opened them slowly with a sigh. “Alexius is in the throne room. He is always in the throne room. I fear I cannot assist you. I have...I think my journey is over.” She kept her hand pressed tight against the wound at her side, it’s extent hidden beneath her leather armor and dark clothes. 

Jules nodded slowly, unable to even form words. Zevran leaned close to her and the two spoke in low tones. She knew they had been close, during the Blight. Seeing such a familiar face must have been a comfort to them both. 

“Can you do something to help her? Heal her?” Jules asked Dorian desperately, looking at Leliana and Zevran through tear-blurred eyes. 

“I am afraid not,” Dorian told her gently, resting a hand on her shoulder. “I don’t study the preservation of life though I wish I had at times such as these.” 

Jules nodded and wiped away the tears gathering in her eyes. She moved to the other side of the table. “I’m so sorry. I promise I’ll make this right.” 

“I am not afraid to die. I have never been afraid to die.” Leliana’s dry, pale lips formed into a smile. “Now I can meet the most holy Andraste and tell her that her Chosen has returned and that her faith is well placed. You need to go, now.” 

“We do,” Zevran agreed, glancing at Jules. “If you could give me a few moments with sweet Leliana?” 

Jules wanted to say something else to Leliana, but she couldn’t actually form any words. She wasn’t close with Leliana. If she was honest, the Orlesian intimidated her. She was just so….confident. If-when they got back, she resolved to sit down with her. Seeing her in such a vulnerable state, even if her Leliana wouldn’t remember it, was eye-opening. “Jas, will you stay with her until she-” Jules couldn’t finish the thought. 

The cat crawled onto her lap and curled up, galactic blue eyes looking up at Leliana. The two left, leaving Zevran and Leliana alone for a long few minutes.

Once Zevran rejoined them, Dorian cleared his throat. “I know the way to the throne room. We should see if we can make it through the courtyard. It will save us time if we can simply cut across the compound.” 

“Lead on,  _ mio amico _ .” Zevran gestured to the door. 

He led them quickly to the castle proper. The wing they walked through seemed to be mostly made up of abandoned servant quarters and ransacked storerooms.

As they neared the courtyard, the rooms grew lighter. Though the sky outside was grey and foreboding, the natural light was better than the dim bulbs of the dungeon. Dorian let them through a giant dining room on the edge of the courtyard with stained glass doors leading out into what was probably once a very colorful and fragrant courtyard garden. One of the doors was shattered near the top, the debris swept away enough to open the doors. Even in the dim light, the shards were brilliant fragments of color. 

Jules reached out and grabbed Zevran’s arm. “Wait!” she hissed quietly. She looked down at her hand, a tingling sensation radiating from the green mark down her fingers and up her arm.

“Rift?” Zevran asked, trying to peer through some of the lighter glass into the wide space beyond. The rippled effect made it difficult to see clearly.

“I don’t think so,” Jules murmured, shaking her hand. “At least, not a fully formed one. Something is definitely happening out there.” 

“There appear to be three people,” Zevran whispered back at them. “It seems to be a ritual. It's almost as if they are summoning a rift.” He looked back at Dorian. “Is that possible?” 

Alarmed, Dorian pushed Zevran out of the way to peer into the courtyard. He could see small wisps of green curling over the center of the open space. Beneath it, three mages chanted, raising daggers. “ _ Kaffas _ !” 

He pulled open the doors with a shout to halt, but the mages either didn’t hear or ignored him. Plunging the blades into their own throats, they fell to the ground. Their robes caught fire, the flames appearing from seemingly nowhere. Gurgling screams from one were heard for only a moment before the rift above them erupted into its more familiar, fully formed version. Like some kind of morbid phoenix, demons rose where the burning mages had fallen. They were unlike any Jules had encountered before. They seemed to be made of robes and bones, vaguely resembling the mages who had given their lives to bring these horrors to life. 

“How delightful,” Zevran said, smirking. “I was growing tired of hallways and empty rooms. This is more like it! Shall we get some more practice,  _ passerota _ ?” Jules took a steadying breath to answer, but the Crow was already rushing into the fray. 

Jules found it more likely that he wanted to distract himself from his last moments with his friend than alleviate any sort of boredom he might feel.

Dorian’s hand and staff raised, with them an odd purple mist that gathered and rose over their heads. With a quick gesture downward, the plane of magic slammed into the ground. The force of it made her ears pop. The demons seemed to have a much harder time with it, hunching over with furious screeches as if heavy debris had rained down over them. 

Whatever Dorian did seemed to make it impossible for them to attack magically. Energy crackled and died from sharp, blackened fingertips and one let out a furious scream. Jules didn’t let herself think for a moment that it made them any less dangerous. 

Sprinting forward, she buried a blade into a horror’s chest, twisting to inflict as much damage as possible before she jumped back to avoid the deadly swipe of its claws. Disappointment turned to embarrassment as she suddenly remembered these creatures didn’t have a heart and piercing what was left of one wouldn't kill it. 

Unsheathing her other blade, she severed the arm that reached for her and arched the other. It slid through the horror’s head with a grating crunch of steel against bone, or what she thought might be bone. Jules was relieved to find that this creature disintegrated in much the same way as the demons she was used to fighting.  _ Relatively _ used to fighting. 

A quick glance around confirmed that her companions were more than capable and had dispatched the other two sacrificed mages. Twirling one blade, Zevran nudged Dorian with his elbow. “Watch this.” The assassin grinned, ignoring the dirty look the mage gave him at the jostling. Despite that, Dorian did watch with great interest as Jules closed the rift. 

“The throne room should be just through there and I am very eager to end this.” Dorian motioned, walking to the far side of the courtyard with a determined stride. 

As they walked through the main hall, once filled with priceless pieces of art and ancient statues, Jules felt the hairs on the back of her neck raise. Odd, crimson-colored crystals protruded from the walls and floors. 

“That’s a lot of red lyrium,” Jules said softly, brows furrowed with concern. Glancing at Zevran, he found the elf studying it diligently, but from a distance. “I thought Leliana said this red lyrium wasn’t going to be a problem if we kept an eye on it.” She gestured around the hall. “ _ This _ is a problem.” 

“Indeed, it is,” Zevran agreed with a thoughtful hum. “We will have to revisit the threat when we return.” 

She knew it was on the Inquisition’s radar but after their adventures in shitty-future Redcliff, it was clear that greater attention should be paid to it. Varric would be insufferable “I told you so” when he found out. He’d been less than pleased at the amount of attention that had been paid to the stuff when they’d met about it. He’d seen it first hand, seen what it was capable of and had angrily told them they were stupid to disregard it. 

“Why would Alexius want to use red lyrium?” Jules asked Dorian resisting the urge to touch the pulsing red crystal that seemed to call to her. 

“For Felix. He was attacked by Darkspawn and tainted, something this is eventually fatal. He is hoping that with the Elder One’s power and the red lyrium, he will have what he needs to go back and prevent that from happening. It just so happens that it would also prevent the events at Conclave,” he explained. “Felix has come to terms with his fate. It is clear, Alexius has not.”

“He really loves his son,” Jules said softly. 

“The strength of his love is certainly not in question. Simply the method in which it shows. Regardless, we cannot waste time with speculation on how this timeline has gone wrong,” Zevran pointed out. “We must simply prevent it from doing so in ours.” 

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“Commander!” The shout brought Cullen out of his reverie. 

“What?” he snapped. 

“Don’t you ‘what’ me!” Morgan snapped back, sitting down across from him. “You’re not my dad.” Cullen couldn’t help but let out a huff of a laugh. 

“I apologize. I continuously forget I’m not the only one worried about her.” He shifted in his chair to face Morgan. “All I can think about is what might be going wrong. And there are so many things that could go wrong.” 

Morgan nodded in agreement. “There are. I can take your mind off of it though.” 

“Gladly,” Cullen breathed out. 

“What, exactly, are your intentions with Jules?” Morgan leaned toward Cullen, resting his elbows on his knees. 

Cullen groaned and reached up to rub the back of his neck. “Maker’s breath. How did I not see that coming?” 

The younger Trevelyan laughed. “You had to know it was coming. I’ve seen you two sucking face when you think no one is looking. I see the way she smiles at you. She’s smitten. The question is, are you? Have you slept with her?” 

“No!” Cullen exploded, eyes wide. “No, we haven’t-we haven’t done anything like that.” The First Commander’s cheeks were so red Morgan thought they might actually catch fire. 

“Do you intend to?” Morgan continued to press. 

“No. I mean-yes. Maybe.” Cullen closed his eyes and slid one hand through his hair.”

“What I mean is, is that your end goal? To get into her pants? I’m sure it would be easy. She doesn't know shit about relationships.” Morgan pointed out, sitting back again. 

“No, of course not! My ‘end goal’ is to make her happy. I care for her. More than I should. If we should-” he cleared his throat “-fall into bed together, it will be by her choice. If  _ she _ wants it.” 

“Good, because if I even hear otherwise-” Morgan started. 

“You’ll beat the ever-loving shit out of me.” Cullen finished. 

“Oh no. I will fucking kill you.” Morgan corrected, almost casually, his tone jovial. “Then I’ll let Cassandra beat the ever-loving shit out of your corpse. We’ll send a video to Zevran, so he knows we did right by Jules when he’s gone. Varric and Bull might want some too. Josephine is too sweet to join in, but I bet she won’t stop us. Not to mention Jasoom. Your grave would be a litter box for all eternity.” 

“You can stop.” Cullen scowled. “I get the point. I promise it won’t ever come to that.” 

Morgan smiled and nodded. “I’m sure it won’t. You know, I have to say it though.” 

“I know. And I appreciate that you’re looking out for her. I don’t want to mess up what I have with her. If I haven’t lost her already.” Cullen glanced over at the throne room’s raised dias and empty hearth. He kept doing so, hoping she would reappear. 

“Naw, she’s coming back. The only reason Alexius is still alive, as far as I’m concerned, is that he promised  _ they _ were still alive. He said that if anyone could fix his failure, it would be Dorian who is most likely with Jules and hopefully Zev.” Morgan followed Cullen’s gaze, also hopeful that at any moment a rift or spell or portal would spit the three out as quickly as it had sucked them in. 

“We’ve spent months getting her ready for this. All of us. We have to trust we did well enough.” Morgan sighed. After a few moments of awkward silence, he looked back at Cullen. “Chess?”

_ bel gatto (Antivan)=handsome cat  _

_ vashedan (Qunlat)=shit _

_ sorella rossa (Antivan)=red sister _

_ mio amico (Antivan)=my friend _

_ Kaffas (Tevene)=shit! _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know this is a little bit out of character for Cassandra and yes, I will be addressing it in the future.
> 
> I really hope you'll all tell me what you think of Jasoom's backstory! I've seen so many theories and so many of them were so good! Of course, any comments about the other content of this chapter is welcome!
> 
> Thank you and much <3!  
> Jacks


	9. What May Come to Pass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jules & Co. find a way back to where they're supposed to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter also introduces kittimau's new character as The Herald's, and specifically Jules's, physician! (It also hints at the final OC introduction, kemvee's Delta!) 
> 
> <3 you both and I'm so happy you wanted to be a part of this!

Jules was fully prepared for an immediate fight when they entered the throne room. She was inexperienced in battle, but confident with Zev at her side and ready to die trying to get to Alexius. What she wasn’t prepared for was the nearly empty throne room and complete lack of acknowledgement at their entrance. She saw Alexius at the front of the long space, staring into a roaring hearth. To his side, hidden from the light the fire threw was a hunched figure. Even in the shadows she could see the pale complexion and dead, sunken eyes. 

“ _ Passerotta _ ,” Zevran’s soft voice caught her attention and she followed the gesture of his chin. Behind the shadow of the pillars lining either side of the long room, chained to a bar bolted to the floor was Cassandra and Solas. “Leliana said they had accompanied her on their last attempt to take Redcliffe but she thought them dead.” Jules nearly ran to them, but Zevran’s hand on her arm steadied her. “Alexius first.” He broke off and Jules steeled herself to do her job and put him, and her companions, out of her mind. 

“Alexius.” Jules mounted the steps to the dais and approached him slowly. She wouldn’t let her guard down because she’d let him approach his back unchallenged. 

“I knew that spell didn’t kill you.” His voice had aged, as everything else in this future, far beyond the single year. “I wonder then how your time is getting along without you. If I am failing there as I am here.” 

“What have you done?” Dorian asked, his voice a mix of anger and sadness. His brows furrowed. “Why?” 

“For my son. For my country and my people. It wasn’t supposed to end this way. No one plans on failure.” Alexius turned to face them. “I didn’t know it, but when you interrupted that spell, that was the beginning of the end. Two separate timelines...perhaps in yours I will succeed but I think not.” 

“Two?” Jules asked, looking at Dorian. 

“Like a skipped record. Only it is changing behind us. What your Inquisition is doing now, will change the future you return to.” Alexius let out a huff of a laugh, bitter and unamused. “ _ If _ you return. Not that it matters. There can be no future without ruin and death. He will consume everything, with or without you.” 

Jules glanced behind her and saw a stoic faced Cassandra and weary Solas stand behind them. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Zevran. He walked up behind the creature hunched in the shadows. As he moved to take in the face, he inhaled sharply, bringing their attention to him. 

“What have you done to your son?” The Antivan asked, unable to look away from the pitiful sight. 

“Is that Felix?” Dorian cried, taking a few steps forward. “What did you do, Alexius?” 

“I saved him!” The mage shouted, spittle flying from his mouth.

The walking corpse, now identified as the once handsome and vibrant Felix, stood and shuffled toward Zevran with a bony hand outstretched. “Please,” he croaked, “kill me.” Without hesitation, Zevran drew a blade and moved forward. 

“No!” Alexius staggered forward, but Dorian stepped in his way. “Do you not see his suffering?” Jules could hear Felix’s repeating pleading, weak and agonized. “Send us back and we will ensure that this is not his fate.” 

“I will do as you ask, please, just do not hurt my son.” He reached into his robes, searching for something with desperate motions. “Here, the amulet we made, it will-”

“Kill me!” Felix keened, rushing Zevran. The assassin managed to spin to the side, but he was easily redirected as Zevran was not his goal. The Felix-creature sank to his knees in front of a startled Alexius. Unlike his father, he knew exactly where the item he wanted was in the voluminous robes. He slipped a dagger from Alexius’s pocket and brought it across his throat. 

There was no light left in his eyes to die as the blood cascaded down his chest in crimson pulses. His cracked lips parted and the sunken cheeks gave him the look of a gasping fish. 

“No!” Alexius’s anguished cry echoed through the empty throne room. He watched his son’s body slump to the ground before his gaze turned to Jules. “This is your fault! This is  _ all _ your fault!” he raged, stalking toward her with long strides. 

“Alexius!” Dorian yelled in warning. Jules’s eyes widened in alarm when she saw energy crackling at the tips of the mage’s fingers. White hot and arching, building with every step. Zevran was too far. Dorian too distracted by whatever affection remained for his mentor. 

Maker, save her. He was going to kill her. Magic wasn’t as easy to evade as a staggering demon. “If you hadn’t interferred, my son would be whole! Happy! The Elder One would-” Jules didn’t even hear the rest. All she could see was the look in his eyes. The abject hatred. She thought she had seen hate directed at her before but she was sorely mistaken. 

Her training kicked in, still fresh in her mind but embedded already in her muscle memory. Reaching across her hip, she drew a blade. In a wide arch, the tip dragged across Alexius’s throat as she sidestepped. At the same time his spell discharged. She was thrown back and her side started to burn. Her head bounced off of the stone floor with a crack as she landed, pain exploding in her shoulder and hip. 

“Put it out!” She heard Cassandra cry before her side exploded in burning pain, an unknown number of hands hitting her torso. She was rolled onto her stomach and her jacket was ripped off of her. 

“Easy!” Zevran was there when she rolled onto her back again, groaning. He offered a hand to help her up, holding her arm as her mind struggled to understand what had happened in such a short amount of time. 

Looking down, she saw the burned tatters of her shirt with bright red and blistering burns covering the left side of her stomach. Solas approached, holding out a hand in question. She clenched her teeth to keep from crying at every movement. At her frantic nod, he laid his hand on her bubbling skin and Jules tried unsuccessfully to hold back a pained whimper that quickly evolved into a blood-curdling scream. She was dizzy by the time cool pulses washed over her skin. Jules would swear she could feel it sink into her bones. The throbbing in her head lessened, the pain in her shoulder and hip disappearing completely. When she looked down again as the elf stepped back, she was relieved to see pink, shiney skin where sickening blisters had been just a few moments before. 

“It should not scar,” he promised. Much like Felix, he was gaunt and pale with sunken cheeks and eyes. This Solas was very different from the one she knew. This Solas had something eating at him that left him...submissive. 

Jules looked up quickly when she heard shouting in the courtyard and Cassandra sprinted to the door. “Dozens of guards coming,” she reported. 

“This is not how it was meant to be. How long do you need to complete the spell to return?” Solas addressed Dorian specifically, but he was still looking dumbly down at Alexius and Felix. In the end, their fate was the same despite all of Alexius’s efforts. Jules walked to him, intentionally avoiding the sight of the first person she’d killed.  _ Had  _ to kill, she reminded herself. Gently, she laid her hand on Dorian’s elbow. He looked up at her sharply. 

“I-I apologize.” Dorian cleared his throat, distracted again by Jules’s genuine smile as she mouthed that it was okay. “I’ll need the amulet he spoke of. Perhaps an hour?” Seeing how reluctant both Jules and Dorian were to do so, Zevran searched Alexius’s robes and produced the amulet. He ensured it was free of blood before handing it to Dorian. 

“The Seeker and I will buy you as much time as we can, though I doubt it will be an hour before we are overwhelmed,” Solas said evenly. It was unspoken that ‘overwhelmed’ meant ‘killed’ and Jules was surprised how unemotional they both seemed about it. 

“Barricade the door behind us and don’t open it for anyone. Not even one of us. Only engage if they break through.” Cassandra drew her blade. Jules knew that if they didn’t succeed, these two would die for nothing, but they were betting everything on their success. 

Without further conversation, they were gone. She and Zevran engaged the locks as well as the heavy bar to secure the door. She turned back around and her eyes caught Alexius’s body on the floor. She swallowed hard and felt tears stinging her eyes. 

She felt Zevran’s fingers bump the underside of her chin and she looked up at him. “I told you it would be hard,  _ passerotta _ , but no one can prepare you for how hard,” he said gently. He rested his hand on her cheek, thumb feathering over her scar. “We can talk on  _ the Herald _ . For now, you must focus. You and Dorian must survive.” 

“And you,” she insisted, frowning.

“Preferably.”He laughed and let his hand fall from her cheek. “One thing at a time, yes?” 

Forcing a smile, Jules nodded. 

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Cullen leaned forward and rested his elbow on the table, propping his chin up on his fist as he surveyed the board. 

“Uh, oh. Golden boy’s in trouble.” Morgan chuckled. 

“I am?” Cullen asked, glancing up for only a moment before putting his mind back to deciding his next move. 

“You only do that elbow-on-the-table-lean-forward-thing when you really don’t know what to do. Which, admittedly, isn’t often. Does getting closer to the pieces help?” Morgan ribbed. 

“We’ve played exactly three games together. Am I that obvious?” Cullen smiled, moving a piece to capture Morgan’s rook. 

“‘Fraid so.” Morgan reached out and immediately captured the piece that Cullen had just moved. “I have you in two, but you have a lot of really appealing options.This is going to be a close game.” 

Out of nowhere Jasoom appeared, leaping from some unknown portal above to land on their chessboard. The pieces fell over, many rolling onto the floor with a clatter. Both men slid their chairs back in alarm, Morgan nearly tipping himself backwards. “Fucking hell! Where did you come from?” 

The cat immediately jumped onto the floor and made a tight circle, yowling and then moving toward the dais a few paces before repeating the grating sound and looking at them over his shoulder. 

With curious looks at the other, both men followed him up the stairs to the raised platform. Jasoom stopped in front of the cold hearth and simply sat. They watched him, clearly anticipating more. After a few awkward moments of silence, Morgan shrugged and looked at Cullen. “Honestly, I don’t know how Jules understands him so well. I wish I could even jus-” 

Cullen felt the odd sensation of the hair on his arms and the back of his neck rising up abruptly. It sent a shiver down his spine and made goosebumps appear on his skin. Above them there was a burst of blinding light followed by a sharp crack that made his ears sing, deafening him to everything else. 

By the time the spots dissipated from his vision, the light was gone but three bodies were now laying prone on the dias between him and Morgan. One of them, he realized when his heart stopped and dropped into his stomach, was Jules. 

Her hair was disheveled and her jacket was gone, the shirt beneath burned halfway to oblivion. The skin of her stomach was pink, indicating a freshly healed wound.  _ Healed _ , he had to remind himself. It didn’t matter what the wound had been, just that it was no longer. 

“Check the other two.” Cullen immediately fell into his Commander role, calling for a medic and barking out orders. Quickly, he knelt next to Jules and checked her pulse. His stomach did an odd flip when he felt it fluttering against the pads of his fingers. He framed her face in his hands, brushing back her hair. “Jules, wake up for me sweetheart.” 

He patted her cheek sharply a few times in an attempt to rouse her. “Come on.” He glanced up and found Zevran standing, though holding his head, and Morgan helping up the Tevinter mage. Cullen’s chest was tightening painfully when he looked down again. The other two were up, but she still wasn’t waking. 

Cullen rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes. He vaguely heard Zevran report that she’d hit her head quite badly and the need to see her open her eyes made him almost frantic. He murmured softly to her so the others wouldn’t overhear. “Jules, you aren’t done yet. I need you here with me.” 

“I’m still here,” she whispered, voice hoarse. He sat up quickly to give her space. 

“Thank the Maker,” Cullen breathed out, his thumb absently smoothing back the hair at her temple. After helping her steady herself, he slipped off his jacket and wrapped it around her. The crimson fur made her golden hair shine, even in its current state. 

Jasoom jumped onto her lap and she absently scratched the top of his head. “Did I land on my head or did someone else land on my head?” Jules asked Cullen, rubbing her temple. 

“I believe that is a result of our trip, my dear.” Dorian was holding a bandage to his head. A stream of sticky blood ran down the side of his cheek. She was sure it looked worse than it was. She’d cut her head enough times to know they bled worse than they hurt. “You know, snapped sideways in time and all of that.” 

“Dr. Casrien is ready aboard  _ The Herald _ . Since they aren’t critical he said it would be faster to bring them back aboard than for him to gather what he needs to come down.” Cullen glanced up at the messenger. “Lt. Aclassai reports that  _ The Ataashi  _ is ready to depart and Seeker Pentaghast is expecting you.”

Jules used Cullen’s support to stand. He kept his hand at her elbow as her shaky legs steadied. She clutched the fur mantled jacket close and walked with him through the Chantry. She was about to walk out when she looked up sharply. Stopping, she let the others go around her, heading to  _ The Ataashi _ which was brazenly parked in the middle of the square.

“Is that rain?” she asked Cullen who was visibly confused at her abrupt stop. She walked forward a few paces to the threshold of the door. Her boots didn’t quite pass over, but small drops of rain bounced off of the stone and onto the tops. She held out her hand and felt the rapid patter of the shower against her palm. 

Her headache was mostly forgotten now. The last few hours-days?- were momentarily forgotten as well. Perhaps she really was just in awe of the natural phenomenon, or maybe it was just a way for her to process the recent trauma, but she was enraptured. 

Drawing her hand back into the safety of the Chantry, she drew her finger over her wet palm. The green pulsed as usual, unbothered by the water. “I’ve never been in the rain before,” Jules said softly, as if she hadn’t meant to say it out loud. 

She glanced up to find a gentle smile on Cullen’s lips and a look in his eyes she wasn’t used to yet. Cassandra was right. He  _ adored  _ her and it showed in his amber gaze every time he looked at her. 

“Would you like to? My sister, Mia, used to kick us outside if we were misbehaving while she was cooking and baking, even if it was raining. I’ve spent many an afternoon slaying dragons in the mud and catching frogs,” he confided. 

With a brilliant smile, she nodded. He laced their fingers together and walked down the Chantry steps with her. She stopped again halfway to the Charger’s ship and closed her eyes, lifting her face to the sky. She’d expected it to feel like a shower, but it was quite different. Opening her eyes, she felt her eyelids flutter reflexively against the drops. The sky was a blanket of grey that seemed to go on forever. 

Cullen watched her take in the experience. Something so small that he never would have thought twice about, except perhaps for the inconvenience of it. He couldn’t help but smile when she looked at him, wrapped in his jacket. He knew it was ridiculous to feel so possessive over such an innocuous thing, but it was there anyway. 

A thought popped unbidden into his head. Her wearing his shirt, hair wet from a shower. Long legs bare, hands hidden in the too-long sleeves. That beautiful blush on her cheeks, framing a shy smile like the one she was giving him now. 

“Everyone is waiting,” she said, reaching out to take his hand again, “we shouldn’t keep them.”

“We can take a moment more,” he assured her, brushing her wet bangs from her forehead before cupping her cheek. She seemed to anticipate his next move and leaned forward to kiss him. She pressed herself softly against him and he was surprised to feel her tongue hesitantly exploring the seam of his lips. He obligingly deepened the kiss until she pulled away, breathless. 

She pursed her lips, not meaning to be as enticing as she was, and looked down with a smile. “Let’s go.” 

“As you wish,” he acquiesced, walking with her to the sleek, black  _ Ataashi _ . 

As she boarded, Cassandra walked up to her quickly, and without a word, wrapping her up in a tight hug. “I am so sorry I failed you.” 

Jules laughed softly and hugged her back. “You didn’t at all. I promise. There’s no way you could have known. Besides, you ended up giving everything to help me in the end.” Jules felt a pang of guilt remembering the future Cassandra heading out to her death just to give them enough time to return. 

Cassandra pulled away and cleared her throat, looking embarrassed. “I’m relieved you’re alright.” Jules was glad that Cullen’s jacket was hiding the damage to her shirt and torso. 

They made their way to the common room, sitting around the circular table and strapping in for their departure. The boisterous voice of the Iron Bull came through the ship’s comms. 

“We thank you for flying Air Ataashi. The city of Redcliffe didn’t want us parked here anyway, so we’re  _ definitely _ cleared for departure. Estimated arrival time to the mothership is about 20 minutes. There is no meal service on this flight however aspirin and whiskey will be offered to our triumphant heroes.” Bull made a static sound to mimic old communication systems before the intercom fell silent for a moment.

They could vaguely hear the exterior speakers blaring from inside the ship. “Krem! Hurry the fuck up! We’re just waiting on you, big shoots.” Again, the interior comms activated. “If you look out the right side of the aircraft you’ll see our resident ‘Vint and his one fingered bird finishing our exterior checks before take-off.” 

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Jules desperately wanted Cullen to stay with her in the medical bay but felt juvenile and awkward asking him to do so. She was nervous to meet the physician the Inquisition had brought on just for her. Luckily, she didn’t have to ask. Cullen simply pulled up a stool next to the exam bed she sat on and settled in. The small and simple act of resting his hand on her knee gave her comfort and confidence. 

The man that walked in hardly looked like a physician. It wasn’t the dress, which was clinical and professional. It was the fact that the rather young man looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. His short brown hair was tousled and faint but noticeable bags were under his eyes. 

He was about as tall as Cullen, with broad shoulders and a decidedly lean body. It was his kind blue eyes that won her over in the end, making her feel at ease without even talking to him. 

“Jules, I’ve been eager to meet you but I would have been happy for it to have been under better circumstances. Given your recent adventure my arriva was rather fortuitous, don’t you think? My name is Emmanuel Casrien. I usually go by Angel or Cas, but you can call me whatever you’d like so long as it isn’t Manny. If you call me Manny I’ll be forced to give you unnecessary tetanus shots.” His voice was deep and gravely, definitely not what she would have imagined. 

“I’m sorry if we woke you,” she apologized with a polite smile. 

“Oh, no,” he dismissed with a wave of his hand, “I always look like this.” He indicated his hair with an annoyed gesture of his finger. “Doesn’t matter what I do with it, it always does what it wants. I was actually just catching up on your medical records.” 

He turned to Cullen and nodded in greeting. “You must be the First Commander. Pleasure to meet you as well. Forgive me, I would offer my hand but, ya know, germs.” 

“Cullen will suffice and I appreciate the thought.” For some reason, he chose that moment to squeeze her knee gently. 

“Any pain, Jules? Do you mind me using your first name?” 

“That’s fine. My head is throbbing. I hit it rather hard when I fell,” she explained, “It was healed so there’s no laceration, but the headache won’t go away.” 

“You might have a mild concussion still,” he said distractedly. “What I’m most concerned about is your stomach.” He pointed to the hint of charred shirt and new skin that peeked through Cullen’s jacket. 

“Oh.” She’d almost forgotten about that. She pulled off the jacket and set it aside, lifting the tattered remains of her shirt and bunching it below her breasts. “I was burned by a spell.” 

“Do you mind taking off your shirt? It looks like it goes up your ribs a bit. You can keep your bra on though if it makes you more comfortable. I can work around it.” 

“I can leave,” Cullen offered. 

Though she could feel the blush on her cheeks, Jules shook her head. “No, I’d like you to stay. Just, resist the urge to laugh, okay?” 

He squeezed her knee again. “I swear it.” In truth, he was sure he would have to resist the urge to show his reaction, but laughter wouldn’t be what it was.

She peeled it off and he had to clear his throat and tear his gaze away, chastising himself for getting distracted. She wasn’t disrobing for him.  _ Maker’s breath, get a hold of yourself Rutherford _ . The last thing he wanted was her thinking he was staring at her scars rather than the soft swell of her breast. 

“In a week you won’t even notice a difference.” Cas examined around her bra, moving the band gently and replacing it with just as much care. “Fantastic healing job. Doesn’t look like I need to do a thing about it.” 

“There’s nothing you can do about these, is there?” Jules asked, running a finger over the long curved scar that followed the line of her lower rib. 

With a frown, the physician shook his head, grabbing Cullen’s jacket and helped her slip back into it again. “I’m afraid not, but I can ask around. Other than your head, is anything else bothering you?” 

“No, I’m feeling alright. I’m lucky  _ The Herald  _ was nearby or I would have shut off.” Jules noticed Cullen’s immediate frown. She still struggled to find humanizing, and not objectifying words when referring to herself. “Sorry, died.” 

“Well, see…” Jules’s gaze snapped to Cas at his tone. “That isn’t  _ strictly  _ true.” 

“But, I was told that if something happened to her I wouldn’t survive. That I couldn’t exist if she didn’t.” She didn’t want to argue since the alternative meant freedom, but that would be a scary reality she’d never lived in before. 

“It’s complicated. Very complicated,” he admitted, “and I haven’t figured it all out myself. But, from what I can tell, you can be separated from  _ The Herald _ without death. The lower part of your brain stem is a part of your spinal alterations which can keep your augmentations going just fine. Breathing, pumping blood, that sort of thing. The issue is the connection between your higher brain functions and your artificial spine. They need instruction to be able to communicate properly. It seems that it was done intentionally when the programming was built. Without  _ The Herald  _ you’ll be unconscious, but definitely alive.” 

“I don’t need  _ The Herald? _ ” Jules asked, incredulous and more than a little anxious.

“I mean, not strictly, but we would need to find another way to essentially keep you up and running independently. I’ve requested the help of a brilliant researcher named Delta de Fairlyn to assist me. But, listen, I don’t want you to get your hopes up. It could conceivably take years to figure out how to do that successfully. Until then, you’ll have to stay integrated with  _ The Herald _ .” 

“I understand,” Jules murmured. “Could we talk about this later? I’m-I’m pretty tired.” 

“Of course.” Cas smiled, his kind blue eyes setting her at ease again. “I’d just like to make sure you don’t have a concussion then I’ll let you go. You gonna be okay with this news? I should have thought before I blurted it out.” 

“Not your fault. I was the one that brought it up,” Jules dismissed gently. ‘It sounds like it isn’t anything I have to worry about right now anyway. One thing at a time.”

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Despite being exhausted, Jules found herself restless and unable to sleep. She thought perhaps it might be time to give  _ The Herald _ a bit of attention. She was so used to Jules’s undivided attention every day. Catching a glance of herself in the mirror, she paused and gave herself a good once-over. In the black coveralls she looked the same as she always had, except for the scar across her cheek. 

Fundamentally, the person she saw looking back at her now had completely changed. She felt different, able to look herself in the eyes. She smiled slightly, realizing how greatly something else had changed. Her urge to retreat into the depths of  _ The Herald _ was replaced with the urge to spend time with  _ people _ . At this moment, one person specifically. 

It didn’t take much time to make up her mind. She took a left at the main hallway then another at the next intersection. First door on the right. Without the nervousness she expected to feel, she tapped the pad and waited patiently. The heavy metal door slid open in near silence and standing in front of her was Cullen. His smile, mirroring her own, made her stomach flutter with butterflies. 

“I was hoping you would come,” he admitted softly, one hand reaching out to grasp hers while the other cupped her cheek and he leaned in for a kiss. With a soft hum of contentment, Jules returned it, hesitant in skill but confident in purpose. 

When they broke away, she felt his hand slip from her cheek, fingers brushing gently as it fell. “I needed to see you.” She looked down at the black coveralls and then smiled sheepishly. “Obviously it wasn’t my first plan.” 

Cullen shook his head, tugging her hand to urge her into his room and chuckled. “You look beautiful.” As the door slid closed, he turned to her again and wrapped her up in his arms. She let herself relax against him, pressing her cheek to his chest against the soft undershirt. “You should be sleeping,” he murmured against her hair, “but you’ve been through a lot. Do you need to talk?” 

“I don’t know.” Her own voice was a whisper. “I just knew I needed to see you.” 

Cullen pressed a kiss to her temple and curled a finger beneath her chin, urging her to look up at him. “I wanted to see you too, but I know you needed to sleep and didn’t want to intrude. I was so terrified I wouldn’t see you again. I thought about you every moment you were gone. I couldn’t sleep or eat. Less than a year and you’ve left a mark on me in a way no one ever has before.” 

“I wish I could say I thought of you every moment-” Jules bit her lip. 

“You were rather busy.” His laugh brought the smile back to her beautiful lips. The pad of his thumb brushed against her full lower lip, rosy from the worrying of her teeth. He found that he couldn’t break away from her eyes or what he saw in them. Just as he was about to break, unable to resist the overwhelming urge to kiss her, she shot up onto her toes, wrapped her arms around his neck and beat him to it. 

Suddenly, she couldn’t get enough of him. She felt his tongue press against the seam of her lips and she immediately opened for him. Jules could feel the soft smile and the warmth of his hand on the small of her back even through the thick fabric of the coveralls. Moaning softly, she released her iron grip around him, reaching blindly behind her for the desk against the wall. 

She felt something knock against her hand and it went crashing to the floor, broken shards tinkling against the metal as it shattered. With a gasp, she broke away from him, voice breathless. “I’m sorry, I can-” 

With a quick gesture, everything on the desk was swept away. “It doesn’t matter,” he growled, gripping her hips and lifting her to sit on the desk, “Only you matter.” 

With a noise akin to a whimper, she slid her fingers through his hair and pulled him in for another kiss, wrapping her legs around him. His fingers dug into her hips and he pressed into her, pants uncomfortably tight. He broke away from her only to pepper kisses along her scar, the tip of her nose and then forehead. Finally, he pulled back slightly and reached for the zipper of her coveralls. “May I?” 

She released his hair, nodding quickly and rested her hands behind her, propping herself up and giving him more room. He unzipped slowly, his gaze never leaving hers until he reached the end. He tugged at the black shirt beneath, pulling the hem free. Jules stopped him, her hand tight around his wrist. 

“Do you want to turn the lights off?” she asked and Cullen could see the hesitation in her eyes. 

“Of course not. You’re beautiful and I want to see all of you.” He’d thought perhaps reassurance was all she needed, but when he noticed her shoulder twitch he could see it was more. “Would you be more comfortable with them off?” 

“The last time that I-well he didn’t like to see my scars.” Jules looked back up at him, smiling hesitantly. “They really don’t bother you?” 

“Maker’s breath, no.” His hands slipped beneath the shirt, thumbs feathering over the mirrored scars along the bottom of her ribs. “I want to know everything about you. Every inch of every scar, every spot that makes you shiver.” Jules pulled her arms out of the coveralls with jerky movements, not able to get free fast enough. He pulled up the shirt and she raised her arms, allowing him to pull it off and toss it aside. He kissed along her neck and pressed his lips to the sensitive spot behind her ear that did indeed make her shiver. 

“Okay,” she consented with a whisper, unable to find any other words in her vocabulary. 

“Tell me,” Cullen murmured into her ear, “what makes you shiver and moan? What brings you pleasure?” 

“I don’t know.” Her response made him chuckle and he pulled away from her, looking down at her flustered face. His finger traced the long scar between her breasts, sweeping beneath before testing the weight of one against his palm. She hummed softly, letting her head fall back. 

“No need to be shy,” he promised her, “if you don’t want to tell me, you can just show me.” 

“It isn’t that. I-I really don’t know what I like.” Her hand covered his over her breast and he could feel her chest rise and fall with rapid breaths. 

“The person you were with before, he never _helped_ you?” The surprise on his face made her hesitate. 

“That wasn’t why I was there.” Jules felt her heart start to race for an entirely different reason. She didn’t want him to know. 

“Did you want to be with him?” Cullen’s brows furrowed. 

“I was willing,” she assured him, hoping it would assuage his concerns. 

“But did you want it?” he asked again. 

“It was my job. Part of my responsibilities. I always went willingly.” Jules found herself whispering, growing more panicked by the moment. Bull had explained it wasn’t her ‘job’ and she felt like an idiot. The last thing she wanted Cullen to see her as. “Can we talk about this later?” 

“To who?” Cullen demanded and Jules could feel his hands shaking as he gripped her shoulders. 

“First Commander Hayden. I didn’t know. I thought it was my job.” She was pleading with her eyes for him to understand. 

“Your job? Because he was the First Commander?” Cullen asked, voice low and shaking. When she nodded, he pulled his hands back sharply, as if she’d burned him. “I can’t do this.” 

If she didn’t know better, she would have sworn her heart stopped. She could already feel tears gathering in her eyes. She shoved him away, sliding off the desk and jerking on the arms of her coveralls. Jules tugged at the zipper as the door slid open with a thought. Frustrated that it wouldn’t budge, she held the front of her coveralls closed as she fled his quarters. 

Too late, he stumbled after her. “Jules!” he shouted, sprinting to the main hallway. “I didn’t mean it like that” He checked all the hallways nearby as well as her door. If she was in her room, she wasn’t answering and likely wouldn’t. Instead, he tried the comms. “Jules, please let me explain. What I said, it wasn’t what you think.” Waiting with baited breath for several minutes, he was met with only silence. 

“Fuck.” Cullen wasn’t normally prone to swearing but it seemed appropriate given the circumstances he had created for himself. “Fucking idiot.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for making it all the way down here! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I would love to hear from you! I know, I know. But the slow burn is almost over!
> 
> <3 Jacks


	10. Rapid Burn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The wait is over. I hope you like smut.

Jules didn’t know where to go or who to turn to. She was beyond mortified and loathed anyone finding out about Cullen’s rejection, but at the same time the thought of being alone was too much to bear. Bull knew, but there was no way she would get all the way down to the hanger without being seen. Her frantic attempt to zip up her coveralls had resulted in the zipper pull snapping off. She’d left her shirt in Cullen’s room so the only thing keeping her covered was the tight grip on both sides of the top of her suit. 

At some point, she noticed Jasoom walking beside her, or rather trotting to keep up with her quick steps. Jules found herself letting him lead as he slipped in front of her. Up to the next level and then toward the front of the ship. He led her in a circuitous route to the mess hall and then further into the Officer’s Club. She suspected he was keeping her away from those walking through the corridors. 

The Officer’s Club was also empty, save for El who sat behind the bar reading a book with her chin rested on her hand. Jules realized that she was exactly the right person to see and silently thanked the cat for leading her there. The elf didn’t notice her until Jules tried and failed to hold back a choking sob. El looked up sharply and her eyes widened. Her book fell to the bar, immediately forgotten as she moved around quickly to meet Jules in the middle of the room. 

“Sweetheart, what happened to you?” She was mostly alarmed at Jules’s state of dress. She quickly drew the black and blue plaid shirt from her shoulders, revealing one arm covered in intricately designed tattoos from shoulder to fingers. “You put this on and I’ll lock the door.” 

Jules let the top of the jumpsuit fall, sliding on the soft flannel and buttoning it up with shaky fingers. She tied the arms of her coveralls around her waist before hugging herself. El took her elbow gently and led her to the nearest table, pulling a chair out for her. 

“First, are you hurt?” El asked gently, sitting beside her and leaning in without invading her space. Jules shook her head, eyes glittering with tears. “Do you want to tell me what happened, or do you just want me to sit with you?” 

“I ruined everything,” Jules declared in a shaky whisper. “I told him about-” she hesitated, looking down and away from El’s concerned gaze, “I told him about before. Before all of this. The First Commander of the Herald-I thought it was my job-he told me it was my job to have sex with him. Cullen and I were-we were-” 

“It’s okay, take your time,” El said gently when Jules was quiet for a moment, unsure of what to say. Jules’s shoulder rose and fell and she put her hand on it, rubbing the muscles that were growing tight from the repeated nervous gesture that had plagued her entire trip to the bar. 

“He asked me about my past, with other men and I told him. I didn’t really want to, I was scared but I didn’t want to lie to him. I should have lied.” She looked up at El, tears streaming down her cheeks again. “The way he looked at me, like I was  _ dirty.  _ He backed off like I had burned him. I was so stupid to think that I could-” 

“Absolutely not.” El’s stern voice interrupted her. “There is nothing stupid about you, sweetheart. I promise you that Cullen doesn’t think that you’re “dirty” or used or anything else you may be thinking about yourself. I think he was surprised by your answer. Everyone on this ship can easily see that he’s smitten with you.” 

She shifted her weight on the chair. “Put yourself in his shoes. Someone you care about, who has never had it easy, is starting to open up. You’re seeing them grow and smile and make friends. And then you find out that someone took advantage of them in such a profound and intimate way at such an incredibly vulnerable moment. I’m not saying that how he reacted was right, but I can tell you that I don’t think he meant for it to happen the way that it did.” El’s gentle voice made her want to cry, but for a completely different reason than before. 

“Can I call someone for you or take you home?” Her smile was contagious and Jules found herself forcing one as well. 

“You're working. I shouldn't have bothered you."

"Nonsense. You're never a bother." El stood and watched with a smile as Jasoom jumped onto the table, then Jules’s shoulder before the woman herself stood. They walked back to her quarters in silence and Jules was simply grateful for someone who was willing to listen and not judge. Just be with her. “Take your time, maybe a hot shower and a nap. If you’re feeling better, you should go talk to Cullen.” 

“Talk to Cullen about what?” Morgan’s voice surprised her and she looked over El’s shoulder to find him standing in his doorway. He was apparently on his way out and at the most inopportune moment. 

“Nothing,” Jules tried to reassure him quickly. He looked skeptical and Jules was sure her tear stained cheeks and red eyes spoke volumes. Morgan nodded absently and walked away. 

“You know Morgan won’t judge you. If you want to talk to someone, you could talk to him too.” El suggested. 

“He’ll be so mad,” Jules countered, wringing her hands nervously.

“Not at you babe.” El smiled and squeezed her arm. “He’ll be mad at that long-dead fucker who doesn’t have to deal with the consequences of his actions. Will you be okay by yourself or do you want me to stay with you?” 

“I think I’ll be okay. Do you really think Cullen isn’t mad at me?” She hated to ask for reassurance, especially since El had already said as much, but she needed to hear it again. 

“I’m sure the only one he’s mad at is himself.” El chuckled and gave her arm a gentle squeeze. “You know where to find me if you need me and if you call, I’ll be here in five minutes or less.” 

“Thank you, Elbereth. Especially for not thinking less of me.” Jules spoke softly, as if she were afraid saying the words would reveal that she did think less of her. 

“I don’t see that ever happening.” The elf’s contagious smile left her with a little bit of warmth after she’d departed. 

| / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / |

Cullen paced his room, fists clenched and jaw tight.  _ Moron. Idiot. Fool _ . He’d searched all over for her. Each of the engine compartments, parts rooms, anywhere she might go to distract herself with work. She didn't answer her door. He’d even reached out to Cass, Zevran and Bull to see if they’d seen her. No luck. 

The chime of his door made his head snap up. As it slid open, he started to speak, ready to go into the apology he’d been going over obsessively in his head. Instead, pain exploded in his cheek and he suddenly found himself on the floor with lights flashing behind his eyes. His vision cleared and he found Morgan standing over him. 

“I told you I would fucking kill you. Did you think I was joking?” His voice was low and aggressive. “How long has she been crying?” 

Cullen brushed the back of his hand against his cheek and corner of his mouth, relieved to find it free of blood. “Did you see her?” He sounded far too excited for Morgan’s liking. 

“She was going into her room and it looked like she’d been sobbing. Think very carefully before you answer; what the fuck did you do?” Cullen already knew by the tone of his voice what would happen if Morgan didn’t like the answer. While he might normally have a fair shot at beating the younger Trevelyan, Morgan had fury on his side this time and that was a very powerful thing. 

“I over-reacted and said something stupid.” He sat up, propped up with one arm behind him, the other rubbing his sore jaw. “The old Commander of  _ The Herald _ was….I don’t know if it’s my place to say.” 

“You’d better try,” Morgan growled. 

“He was raping her.” Cullen was reluctant to reveal Jules’s secret. “The worst part is he convinced her it was her job. Made her go to him  _ willingly _ .” The last word dripped with disgust. “When she said it was because he was the First Commander-the thought of her being with me because of my title-I didn’t react well. By the time I realized what I’d said and how it could have sounded to her...she was gone. I’ve looked everywhere for her. Her comms are off and no one has seen her. Jasoom isn’t answering me. I don’t know what to do, but I need to apologize. I  _ need _ to set things straight. If she never wants to see me again, I’ll go back to Haven and run the Inquisition’s army from there but I have to at least tell her first. ” 

“Tell her what?” Morgan’s narrowed eyes softened slightly. 

Cullen sighed, roughly running his hand through his hair. “How I feel about her.” He shook his head slightly with a huff of a laugh. “I’d tell you what that is, but she should hear the words before anyone else. If she still wants me to leave, I’ll go willingly. Or, you can kill me and jettison my body into the cold depths of space.” 

Morgan grinned then. “You’re sweet on her. More than I thought you were. As long as you know that you still deserved that punch. I’m not even a little sorry about that.” 

“You’re completely right,” Cullen agreed, rubbing his sore jaw, “I did deserve that.” 

“I saw her going into her room with that cute little elf from the bar. I know you want to talk to her, but give her some time. Let her come to you.” Morgan meant for it to come out as friendly advice, but it was slightly more menacing than that. Regardless of Cullen’s intentions, his aunt was hurting. The aunt he’d come to think of as a sister. “And now you know that I wasn’t fucking around.” 

Cullen snorted when he laughed and accepted Morgan's outstretched hand to pull himself back up.. “That was never in doubt, Trevelyan.” 

| / | \ | / \ | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / |

The next time he answered the door, Cullen was a little more careful. At the sight of a hesitant Jules, he let out the breath he'd been holding. Relief rushed through him and he felt all the tenseness in his muscles disappear. She was barefoot and wrapped in a thick blanket. The feeling of guilt came rushing back at the sight of her red eyes.

"Jules, I'm so sorry. Will you please let me explain? It isn't what you think." His words came out in a rush. At her slow nod, he stepped aside and gestured her into his room. She walked in and took a seat at the small two-person table pushed against the far wall. Moving his chair a little closer, he sat as well and resisted the urge to lean forward.

“I need you to know,” he started hesitantly, reaching out to take her hand between his, “that I have never wanted anybody in my life the way that I want you.” He saw her cheeks redden at that with the barest smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “And when you told me what happened to you? For the briefest moment, I was afraid that you didn’t actually want me. That you thought you  _ had _ to be with me.” 

She opened her mouth to say something, but he squeezed her hand gently. “Rationally, I know that’s not true. But hearing who and why-even just a hint that it might be true terrified me. I  _ had _ to be sure, Jules.” 

They were both quiet a moment and she didn’t speak until she was sure he was done. “I’m sorry I overreacted.” He squeezed her hand and shook his head. “No, I did. I should have given you a chance. I guess I’m still a little insecure.” There was another pregnant pause, bordering on awkward before she spoke up again. “Did I ever tell you that I had a dream about you?” 

“No.” His brow cocked slightly in surprise.

“It started out as a nightmare. Oh, that part wasn’t about you!” she amended quickly at his frown. “No, it was about him. But, it turned to you. And we were...having sex. I remember waking up and thinking something was wrong with me. To have sex, and enjoy it? It felt wrong somehow, to think about you like that. I’d never dreamed about somebody before.”

“But now I know that’s just how I feel when I’m with you. I get this warmth and this incredible feeling that I don’t get with anybody else. Not with Cassandra, or Morgan or Bull. I care for them, but not the way I do for you. I want to do things with you that I certainly don’t want to do with them. So, I need you to know right now that I am choosing to be here, with you.” 

She stood and released her hold on the blanket, letting it fall to the floor. She wore an oversized shirt with black cotton shorts, tied in the front with a dainty, red ribbon. Jules stood between his knees, cupping his cheek with her palm. “If that’s what you want too.” 

“I’ve never wanted anything more,” he breathed. His hand moved to the back of her neck, gently drawing her down for a soft, languid kiss. She shuffled closer, lifting one leg, then the other until she was straddling him in the chair. His hands slid down her back, cupping her backside and pulling her against the cradle of his hips. She let out a soft moan when she felt the stiff, confined bulge of his cock against her core. Breaking the kiss, Jules smiled hesitantly, cheeks burning. 

“Already?” she asked, surprise showing in her eyes, “do I kiss that well?” 

Cullen reached up, brushing her golden hair behind her ear. “You have no idea what you do to me, but you’re going to find out,” he promised, voice low in a way that made her shiver. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” 

She ground her hips against his, making his eyes snap shut and his head fall back with a groan. “Do you-do you want me to turn off the lights?” he stuttered, clearing his throat as he opened his eyes to take her in again. Jules smiled and shook her head. He could tell that she was still slightly hesitant. “Good, because I want to see every beautiful inch of you. I want to see the reaction on your face of everything I do to you. I want you to see what you do to me.” His fingers teased the hem of her shirt, drawing it up slowly to the small of her back. “May I?” 

She licked her lips nervously and raised her arms in silent assent. Lifting the garment slowly, he let his fingers brush against her skin. Once he’d tossed the garment aside, she resisted the urge to press against him and hide, instead staying still while his amber eyes took her in. 

Cullen’s fingers brushed along the scar that started near her collarbone and descended between her breast, separating to curve beneath them both. “You are  _ incredible _ .” He emphasized the last word, eyes snapping up to hers. Long fingers moved through her hair again as he drank in her face, the sharp scar stark white against her flushed cheeks. 

She thought the intense scrutiny, though that wasn’t the right word, would make her more insecure but she felt those thoughts slipping away. The next time she looked at herself in the mirror, she would try and do so with his eyes. The hand in her hair drew her in for another kiss as the other took the weight of her breast, kneading gently between them. The rough pad of his thumb brushed back and forth over her peaked nipple. She could feel her heart racing as the urgency built between them, each fueling the other. 

When Cullen pinched her nipple teasingly, she gasped and accidently broke the kiss. “Do you like that?” His grin suggested that he already knew the answer. Their lips were so close that she could feel his breath against her skin. 

All Jules could manage was an ‘mmhmm’ before she captured his lips again, pressing her chest into his hand. His hand slid from her hair and down her back, tracing the long raised scar over her spine. It moved beneath her shorts, cupping her ass and kneading as he did her breast, drawing stifled moans from her.

At his urging, she pressed into his hips and found that while his reaction was far more noticeable, hers was no less intense. She broke away again, panting. “I’m so-is it normal to be so-um..” Cullen was confused for a moment, before he caught her meaning. His eyes glimmered hungrily. 

“Wet?” he supplied. She nodded quickly and both hands squeezed, making her gasp. “Are you?” 

At that, Jules caught on that not only was it normal, but it was incredibly arousing for him. For both of them. “Very,” she said softly, trying her best at sounding sultry although she was unsure if she pulled it off or not. At least, not until his other hand traveled to her backside and held her against him as he surged up from the chair. 

With a few long strides, Cullen sank to his knees and rested her on the edge of the bed. He kissed along her neck and shoulder, murmuring against her skin. “Let’s see just how wet you are. Grab a pillow and lay back.” He untied the red ribbon slowly, enjoying the show unwrapping of what felt to him to be the best present he’d ever received. 

He gripped the hem of the shorts and peeled them off, leaving behind her smalls. They were soft and delicate, black with lacy trim. Maker bless Josephine and her perchance for the luxurious. Cullen sucked in a sharp breath when he saw the spreading patch of wetness between her legs, the already dark fabric growing more so at the slickness of her arousal. 

With one hand under her knee, he lifted her leg so that her foot rested against the edge of the bed. He kissed the side of her knee and down her thigh moving ever closer to the apex of her thighs. When he felt her tense, he looked up at her to see the nervousness back in her gaze. “Do you have any idea how incredibly hot it is that you are so aroused for me you’ve soaked your smalls?” 

Jules sucked in a sharp breath and swallowed hard. His head lowered, kissing beneath her navel, then lower, over her smalls, then directly over her core. She could feel the heat of his breath spread along her sensitive skin as it traveled along the wet fabric. 

“Is something wrong, sweetheart?” he asked when her hips jerked. 

“It hurts, but in a good way. It’s sharp. I just-I need something, but I don’t know what it is.”

“I do,” Cullen assured her. With gentle hands, he pulled down her smalls and tossed them aside. He urged her to put one leg to the side, moving the other so that her calf rested on his shoulder. To ensure she enjoyed every moment, he met her mismatched eyes and smiled as the pad of his thumb ran along her slick lips, making her stomach tighten. He pushed between them to seek out the tiny bundle of nerves. 

With a gasp, her back arched and she gripped the sheets tightly, twisting with a white knuckled grip. She let out a long, keening moan and Cullen couldn’t help but smile widely in reaction, trying to ignore his own ache of need. A surge of want shot straight to his cock when she moaned one word, pleading and commanding at the same time. 

“More!” 

Completely happy to move at her pace, he slid two fingers into her tight cunt and moaned with her as she clenched around them. Her hips bucked slightly and her sharp cry of pleasure was nearly his undoing. Slowly pumping his fingers, he curled them slightly upward and continued his gentle ministrations. The pad of his thumb occasionally brushed over her clit, making her whimper and roll her hips against his hand. 

His name was the next sound to cross her lips, followed by; “let me touch you.” He found he couldn't deny her and stood quickly. She sat up as well, looking up at him with lust shadowed eyes. “Can I?” Maker's breath, the way that she looked up at him! How was he ever going to last long enough to please her? 

He could see no difference in the lust and need from her organic eye to her artificial one. They were both beautiful and incredibly telling, perfect windows into her soul. “Of course,” he allowed quickly. Jules hesitated though when she saw his fists clenching at his sides. 

She looked up at him again, with a frown this time. “Is something wrong?” she fretted, pulling her hands away. 

“No, sweetheart,” he reassured her, loosening his fist to slide his fingers through her soft hair. “I just want everything to be perfect for you, but I’m afraid I’m a little bit too-” he paused, searching for the right word, “-eager.” 

“What about your Templar stamina?” Jules asked, sounding more and more unsure of herself as the words came out. 

“My what?” Cullen nearly choked on his laugh. 

Her cheeks flushed furiously. “I-um-I heard that templars are really... _ hardy _ . I know you aren’t one anymore, but Varric said-” she stopped. “Oh, I see where I went wrong,” she whispered, brows furrowed. She's taken advice from the notorious embellisher.

“He isn’t entirely wrong, per se, but I don’t want to be selfish. This isn’t about me.” 

“No, it’s about  _ us _ . We have all night, don’t we? I mean, I’ve never-” Jules cleared her throat. “If you’re trying hard not to... _ come _ ,” the way she said the word was so amusing he had a hard time not laughing. As if she’d read it in a textbook and was afraid she might pronounce it wrong. “Then you aren’t really enjoying it, are you? I mean, not really.” 

“I-well-” Cullen faltered, “I suppose you’re right.” 

“Good, because I want you to enjoy it, not try to  _ not _ enjoy it until the very end. Besides, there’s a lot of exploring I want to do and I’d like for you to show me what it feels like to-” Jules bit her lip “finish, before we really get intimate. I don’t want to ruin anything by panicking. I want you to keep wanting me.” 

“Sweetheart,” he said with a smile, “I don't want you. I  _ need _ you. Nothing will ruin that, but I can understand why you wouldn’t want any surprises. I’ll make sure that happens. But, one more thing?” She bit her lip and nodded, grey and green eyes looking up at him from under long, dark lashes. “When you talk about being intimate, you don’t have to be shy. We aren’t in a Chantry and I can’t quite explain to you what it does to me hearing you say those words.” 

Her teeth released her lip and she smiled seductively. Perhaps, not intentionally seductive, but the result certainly was so. She stood, sliding her hands up his chest to his shoulders and she stood on tiptoes and urged him to bend slightly. “So,” she whispered in his ear as he closed his eyes, “you would like it if I said that I wanted to suck your cock until you spilled in my mouth and then wanted to come for the first time in my life, for  _ you. _ ” 

Cullen’s gasp was telling. His hand slid through her hair, fisting at the back of her head to pull her back enough to capture her mouth. With a growl against her lips, his other hand pressed against the small of her back as he bent over her slightly to make her back arch. As much as she’d pushed herself to say those words, as much as her cheeks burned to do it, this reaction was well worth it. It was like he was now trying to devour her. She made a mental note to get some advice from Bull on dirty talk. 

Now, she just had to pretend she knew what she was doing beyond not biting  _ it _ off. Jules nipped his upper lip, just over his scar when she pulled away, sitting back down on the edge of the bed. 

“Are you sure?” Cullen asked, silently pleading with her not to change her mind. 

Her bright smile and clear laugh set him at ease. “Very sure.” Cullen watched with bated breath as her long fingers slowly pulled down the waist of his lounge pants. Jules’s eyes followed the ever widening path of dark gold hair until his erection sprang free and demanded her full attention.

Shifting his legs until the pants pooled at the floor, he stepped out of them. He found her face again, smile still present but something else in her eyes now. “You’re big,” she whispered, swallowing thickly. 

“Bigger than some perhaps. Are you worried?” Cullen almost offered to stop, but her hands rested on his hips, fingers splayed wide as she moved them over his abs and then toward his cock, much slower. Maker, save him, he didn’t know if he would have the willpower to stop her. 

“What am I allowed to do?” Cullen was surprised by her choice of vocabulary. 

“Jules,” his fingers brushed through her short hair, urging her to look up at him, “you’re allowed to do whatever you want to, whenever you want to, any time we’re together. I’ll tell you if I don’t like something, as I hope you'll do for me.” 

Jules’s smile widened. Every moment, she was growing more and more comfortable. More bold. “I’ll just explore then.” Cullen watched with rapt attention as she wrapped her hand around him. Her slim fingers circled his thick length and she glanced up at him, cheeks blazing. “You’re so hard and I didn’t have to do anything.”

“I’ve never been more so in my life,” he assured her with a crooked smile. Cullen sucked in a short breath when she leaned forward, her tongue peeking from between her rosy lips to circle the head of his cock. The breath came out in a sharp rush when she took him into her mouth hesitantly, looking up at him. 

He clenched his fist and bit his knuckle, moaning at the sight in front of him. She moaned softly around him, her hand tightening on his shaft as her tongue teased the head, encased in her warm mouth. If the Maker didn’t grant him more strength, he was sure he would spill faster than his first time so many years ago.

“Is that good?” Jules asked, peeking up at him. 

“Maker, yes!” he wrapped his hand around hers, showing her with slow motions how he liked to be stroked. “I love seeing your eyes,” Cullen blurted, prompting her to keep his gaze as her mouth descended on him again. He released her hand, giving her complete control again. He clasped his hands behind his head, watching her intently. 

Jules used his reactions to determine her next actions. When he moaned, she would take him deeper or suck harder, trying hard not to break away from his molten amber eyes. After only a few minutes of her innocent and unskilled ministrations, his head fell back. “Jules, I’m so close.” His hand moved to her hair, urging her mouth to move over him faster. “If you don’t want me to finish in your mouth you’d better st-” 

With her hand keeping a firm grip on the base of his cock, she took him as deep as she could into her mouth. She felt the swollen head hit the back of her throat, resisting the urge to gag and focused only on pleasuring him. He came hard, shouting his pleasure in the small room as her throat contracted around his cock, her hand pumping in slow motions over what she couldn’t swallow. 

She pulled back slightly, teasing the head of his cock and feeling the spurts of seed against her tongue. Jules didn’t stop until his hips jerked back. Panting heavily, he looked back down at her, shaking his head slightly. “I don’t even-Jules, that was amazing.” His voice was hoarse and he had to lick his lips which were dry from his heavy breathing. 

“Sweet of you to say.” Jules laughed and sat back on the bed. “But you don’t have to lie. I’m sure it was terrible. I’ll learn though,” she assured him, patting the bed beside her. Rather than sitting alongside her, he kissed her and blanketed his body over hers until he lay over her. 

“I swear to you that I am not lying in the slightest. What you may lack in experience, you make up for in intuition and enthusiasm.” He chuckled against her skin, leaving wet kisses along her jawline and down her neck. “Is there anything I shouldn’t do?” he asked, continuing the exploration of her soft skin as he laid on his side beside her. Her silence prompted him to lift his head, looking down at her.

“It’s okay sweetheart. You can tell me anything. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. When you’re with me, I want you to be thinking about me and nothing, or no one, else.” He brushed the back of his fingers down her scarred cheek. “I won’t judge.” 

“Don’t push my face into the bed or hold my neck,” she started hesitantly. Cullen had to work extremely hard to keep his face neutral. A sudden, murderous rage started to creep in on the lust that currently consumed him. “Don’t bend my arms behind my back.” So far, they were all things that he never would have done in the first place. But he was relieved that she trusted him enough to say them. 

“Anything else,” he prompted gently, his thumb feathering back and forth over her cheek. 

Jules smiled slightly. “Don’t tell me I’m a good girl.” Cullen nodded in agreement, lips pursed slightly. “I think that’s it,” she said in a quiet voice. In truth, she was embarrassed at the list. Several other things came to mind but she knew somehow that Cullen wouldn’t have come close to hitting those triggers. 

“There’s nothing wrong with any of that,” he assured her, his low voice soothing. “I promise this will be so different. If it isn’t, I swear I will surrender myself to Morgan willingly.” 

She was surprised by the laugh that fell from her lips. “It’s already been different. I love it. Instead of something I don’t want you to do...can I ask you to do something. Specifically?” 

“Of course,” he immediately responded, his curiosity piqued, “anything.” Gently, his hand slid along her stomach, moving with a tickling touch.

“I love it when you call me darling and sweetheart. Any endearment really.” Jules was blushing furiously, but his reassuring smile practically made her melt. “I know it seems silly to ask to be called something since nicknames are organic, but my father used to call my mother  _ bijou _ and it always made her smile.” 

“It isn’t silly at all,  _ bijou _ ,” he whispered, brushing his lips against her temple, “it sounds Orlesian though. You’re from the Free Marches.” 

“My mother is half Orlesian and she spent a lot of her childhood there.  _ Bijou _ means jewel or treasure. It’s actually half of the inspiration for my name.” Jules reached up to brush a lock of Cullen’s hair back into place but it just flopped forward onto his forehead again. Rogue like the charming smile he was giving her.

“And the other half?” he asked curiously. 

“My father’s favorite author, a man from Ferelden who wrote about amazing journeys of exploration to fantastic places like the depths of the oceans or the vastness of space. This was all way before anyone had actually done those things. He always hoped I would do something amazing.” Jules’s voice was slightly wistful.

“You  _ have _ done amazing things,” Cullen fervently pointed out. “Did you remember all of this?” 

She shook her head, pursing her lips. “I wish I had. I read about it in some of the letters my brother left for me.” 

“It’s beautiful,” he leaned over her, kissing her softly, but insistently. The fingers that had previously been roaming the soft skin of her stomach slipped lower, seeking the wetness between her thighs. “Just like you,” he murmured against her lips as he sank two fingers into her. 

Her hand sank into his hair with a soft moan. His fingers curled slightly as he started to pump them slowly, at the same time capturing her moans with a kiss. Her hips rose with a jerk when he rubbed his palm against her clit. 

Then suddenly, much to her disappointment, his hand was gone. She whimpered slightly in disappointment, letting out a sharp breath. When she opened her eyes, she found him staring down at her with a grin. “Patience,  _ bijou _ .” She felt his hair tickle her cheek as he kissed down her jaw and neck. “I promise, I’m not done yet.” 

He shifted down the bed, kissing along her collar bone to the center, then down along the thick scar. He deviated from its path, his hand raising her breast to his mouth to take her nipple into his mouth. He bit gently and chuckled at her gasp, his tongue soothing almost immediately. Kissing down the side of her ribcage, his fingers tickled along the other side. 

More wet kisses lined the crease of her hip. “Open for me, Jules,” he coaxed, moving off the bed to kneel between her legs. His hands scooped under her thighs and he hauled her down to the edge of the bed. She gave an excited yelp followed by a light laugh that made his cock twitch, already hard and needy again. 

He glanced up to find her watching him intently, far less nervousness in her gaze. “Are you ready for this?” he asked, gentle hands urging her knees apart. He was able to see all of her, a smile spreading across his lips. “Because you’re beautiful and I can’t wait to taste you.” 

“Be honest with me,” Cullen told her, looking back up at her flushed face, “if it becomes too intense and you want me to stop, I want you to tell me.” His smile widened. “But if you like something, I want you to tell me that too.” He saw her nod and smile, letting out a soft breath from between slightly parted lips, rosy and enticing. 

Cullen started slowly, middle finger slipping inside the tight heat he couldn’t wait to bury himself in. Another whimper and she clenched around it. Lowering his mouth, she could feel his warm breath wash over her sensitive folds before he suckled on one slick lip. He lifted his head again and closed his eyes, sighing. “You taste fantastic.”

He descended again, tongue seeking her clit and relishing in her renewed moans. As much as he loved her soft sighs and whimpers, he wanted her louder. Wanted her to enjoy this night so much that her voice was hoarse from his ministrations. Another finger slid in to join the first as his tongue teased in tight circles around the pearl of nerves before sweeping over it. 

She shifted against the sheets with another moan. His fingers curled again as he began to give her clit earnest attention, careful not to overstimulate her. She gave a lusty cry when he suckled softly. “I like that,” she breathed out. Her hand found his hair and fisted, making him grunt and pump faster into her wet cunt. Her hand drew away quickly and he left her clit only long enough to reassure her. “I want your hands on me, even like this. You won’t hurt me, that wasn’t a sound of pain.” Once her hand returned to his hair, mussing it between her grasping fingers, he returned to her wet cunt. 

As her moans grew louder and her hips started to rise in small, involuntary motions, Cullen paid close attention to her body, letting it tell him when she was getting closer. “I love the way you sound.” He spoke between gentle suckles of her clit, sweeping his tongue over her. “I love the way you move for me. You’re almost there, don’t hold back. Embrace it and let it consume you.” 

Jules tightened her grip on his hair, only able to respond with a loud moan that sounded somewhat in the affirmative. He continued to focus on her clit, fingers pumping slightly faster as she grew louder and more breathless. Cullen desperately wanted to know what she sounded like when she came. He would be the first to hear it. Maker willing, decades into the future, the last as well. 

“I think-” she gasped out, hips rolling against his mouth, “I think I’m-” He hummed softly, a moan of his own that vibrated around her clit and pushed her over the edge. “Cullen!” Her cry and hand in his hair was just the reaction he wanted. Her cunt spasmed around his fingers, a preview of what he would feel soon enough. He eased back, tongue lapping lightly before pulling away completely. When she released him, his fingers retreated and he began to kiss his way back up her shaking form, leaving a wet trail of her slick arousal behind. 

With a dazed look, her eyes opened and found him, focusing after a moment. He laid over her, holding his weight on his elbows. “You’re a mess,” she whispered with a soft, breathless laugh. The pad of her thumb swiped over his lips, lingering on his scar before she sucked the evidence of her release off of her finger. 

Cullen shivered at the sight. “Worth it,” he grinned, grabbing the edge of the sheet to wipe off his chin. “How do you feel?” 

“I-I don’t know,” she responded honestly, “I’ve never felt anything like it, it was amazing!” Her enthusiasm made his chest tighten with emotion. And need. 

“You were amazing. You taste so good and the sounds you make do the most incredible things to me.” He brushed her nose with his own before kissing her lightly, tongue ghosting across her lips. She granted him entrance immediately and surprised him by meeting his tongue with her own, her hand sliding to the back of his neck as she deepened their kiss. 

With a growl from deep in his chest, he pulled away. “I can’t wait any more.” He shifted on the bed, reclining on the pillows and headboard before he crooked his finger in her direction. “Come here,  _ bijou _ ,” he beckoned, scar ticking up with his enticing smile. 

“You want me on top?” Jules sounded surprised though she did crawl toward him to eagerly straddle his lap. 

“I want you to feel like you’re in control. To  _ be _ in control. You go as slow or as fast as you need and tell me what I can do to help. Believe me when I say that whatever you do will be more than pleasurable for me.” His hand moved between them, cupping her breast and teasing her nipple between his fingers. It seemed he couldn’t go even a moment without touching her somehow. He didn’t have enough hands to do everything he wanted to her. 

Jules bit her lip with a slow nod and teasing smile. She was sure Cullen would stop if she’d asked him to, but for him to allow her full control was not something she’d expected. It simply wasn’t within her experience. He leaned back, hands moving to her slim waist as his eyes hungrily roamed her body. What he really wanted to do was roll her over and pound her into the mattress until her hips were made of jelly and she didn’t remember any name but his, even her own. 

She seemed to be steeling herself. In truth, she was waging a silent war in her head. Everything had felt amazing with Cullen up until now, but past experience told her this couldn’t possibly be pleasurable going forward. As she gathered her courage, he did nothing but wait patiently. She could feel his cock, rock hard and twitching with need against her core, but he made no move to plant himself inside of her. He didn’t tell her, or even urge her to do anything. He simply waited with adoring eyes and gentle caresses. 

Reaching between them to steady the base of his cock, she lined them up and with slowness borne of uncertainty, sank over him. Cullen’s fingers sank into her hips and his mouth fell open with a groan of pleasure she was sure couldn’t be faked. His burning amber eyes didn’t leave hers for a moment and it left her feeling beautiful and wanted. 

Inch by inch she took his entire length which seemed to be made just for her body. The head of his cock pressed against the back of her cunt, sending a burst of pleasure through her. She had never felt anything like it. For a moment, she couldn’t bring herself to move. She simply needed to take in the experience. The way he stretched her in the most delightful way, so incredibly hard and everything she didn’t know she wanted.

Cullen sat up, unable to simply lay back and watch. One hand moved to the small of her back, the other to her neck to weave his fingers in her hair. His kiss was no longer gentle and sweet, but demanding and feverish. Like a man starved, he kissed her as if she was all he needed to sustain him. 

Pressed against the hard wall of his chest, she slid her arms around him and met him with equal enthusiasm, capturing his growl of pleasure when she lifted her hips ever so slightly and sank over him again. He pulled away, pressing his cheek to hers. She could feel the rough growth on his jaw and the quick pants of breath against her ear. “How does it feel?” 

With another experimental rise and fall of her hips, she let her forehead fall to his shoulder, moaning softly. “Good.” She was surprised by the breathlessness of her own voice, the way it trembled when his hand moved idly up and down her spine. “No, not just good. I can’t explain it. I don’t have the words.” Another rise and fall, faster this time which elicited a harmonized moan from the both of them. “How does it feel for you?” 

She raised her head from his shoulder to look at him. She wanted to see that he meant what he said, whatever it might be. 

“Jules, I have never felt anything more amazing in my life. Not even my first draught of lyrium and the high it brought. You are so hot and  _ tight _ and-” he had to stop when she clenched around him, grinding her hips in lazy circles, “I feel like you were made for me.”

Her pleased smile paired with the tears sparkling in her eyes made his chest tighten. Her soft breasts rolled against his chest when she began to ride him in earnest, long satisfying strokes that took him to the hilt each time. Her arms tightened around him, making it clear she didn’t want him to lay back down. Jules wanted to be able to meet eyes, which said so much more than his mouth ever could. 

Her head fell back and Cullen took the opportunity to pepper the slim column of her neck with kisses. He found he had to resist the temptation to mark her. There was no way he could let her go after this and he wanted everyone to know. She had chosen him and he had claimed her. 

Cullen felt her blunt nails rake down his back as the motion of her hips grew more erratic. He could feel her rolling her hips to grind against his pelvic bone, seeking more stimulation. “Cullen,” she moaned, settling over him and raising her head to meet his gaze, “my thighs are burning.” Her embarrassed smile made him chuckle, despite the desperate need for release she’d built up in him. “Can we try something different?” 

“Absolutely. As long as I can see your beautiful face.” He released his tight grip on her hair, running his fingers through it to soothe any unintentional discomfort he might have caused. 

Swinging her knee over, she laid down diagonally across the bed, this time curling an enticing finger in his direction with a ‘come hither’ look that went straight to his cock. “Are you sure?” 

An immediately reassuring smile crossed her lips, making her eyes light up. “I trust you. I’m not scared anymore.” 

The returning grin he gave her must have been telling because her eyes widened in surprise. He grabbed her hips and pulled her back to the edge of the bed. He stood with one foot on the floor, his other knee over one of her legs, trapping it beneath him. He slid his hand down the thigh of her free leg and raised it, resting her calf on his shoulder once more. Kissing her ankle, he watched her face as his hand slid back to her waist. He raised a brow in question, stroking his eager cock and waiting for her assent. 

Her rosy lips parted with a moan. “Cullen, please.” He struggled to keep control at the sound of unbridled lust in her plea. With a quick jerk of his hips, he was buried inside of her again. Her back arched off the bed as she cried out, clearly in pleasure and not discomfort. 

One hand slid up her ribs, braced against the underside of her breast as he started to move inside of her. Immediately, her hand moved to his, repositioning it over her breast, squeezing his hand to urge him to do the same. He might have chuckled at her urgent gesture, or thanked her for showing him what she wanted, but the feel of her cunt around him and the sound of her moans echoing in his room were far too consuming. Every thrust was slightly faster and harder, burying himself completely. The sound of their bodies connecting over and over was heightened by her arousal, the wet sounds of sex that could only be heard between moans as they caught their breath. 

Reciprocating her silent request, he took her hand and guided it between them, his thumb brushing her fingers in a gesture for her to tease her clit. She immediately took his hint, clenching around him and crying out at the added stimulation. He watched the ecstasy play across her face. Not even a hint of her earlier hesitation or insecurity. She was wanton and free with her needy moans and furvent movements.

Cullen wrapped his hand around her thigh, preventing his rough thrusts from pushing her up the bed where he couldn’t bury himself. His eyes roamed hungrily, moving from her softly parted lips and flushed face, to her bouncing breasts and heaving chest then finally to where their bodies joined. Deft fingers moved in frantic circles around her clit as he watched his cock disappear into her glistening cunt. 

His gaze moved back to her face and he was startled to see her eyes open and bright, watching him with an intensity he hadn’t seen in her before. Squeezing her thigh, he did everything he could to hold off on his rapidly approaching release. 

“Jules,” he breathed, “come for me. Fuck, I want to feel you come undone.” 

He saw her pupils dilate, blown wide with pleasure as her breath came in shorter pants. Her free hand found his and she laced their fingers together. She squeezed his hand and he held on just as tightly. “You’re so close.” The lower rumble of his voice had the impact he was hoping for. Jules gave a soft cry that ended in something akin to a whimper. “It’s okay beautiful, I have you.” 

He let her leg slide down his arm and he positioned it around his waist so that he could lay over her. Meeting her grey and green eyes, he groaned, raising their hands above her head with another squeeze. “Cullen,” she gasped, closing her eyes and whimpering, “I’m-” Her mouth fell open with a cry as her whole body tensed. “Sweet Maker, I’m coming!” Her cry echoed in his ears and surged through his blood, already on fire. 

Jules had expected her second release to feel like the first. The truth was, it was nowhere near the same. Every single nerve ending in her body, organic and enhanced, exploded with pleasure. Even as she spasmed around him, he continued to thrust into her, making her stutter over the edge over and over, like a shipping record. She was vaguely aware of his roar of pleasure, her name echoing in the small room. Jules could feel his cock twitch as he came inside of her and could feel the thrum of pleasure deep in her stomach as he slammed deep to ride out his own release. The whole time their fingers stayed linked, both white knuckled in their grip on the other. 

She could feel his sweat-soaked cheek against her own. Little bursts of pleasure, aftershocks of release shot through her. Jules tried to burn that exact moment of time into her memory. The panting in her ear so different from the past. Instead of revolting it was satisfying, mostly because she was in the same state. Cullen’s lips slowly worked their way up her jaw and cheek, kissing the corner of her mouth. Impatient, she turned into him to capture his lips, moaning against them as he shifted inside of her. 

Cullen pulled away from the lazy kiss sharply, releasing her hand and propping himself up off of her when he felt wetness on her cheeks. “What’s wrong?” he asked, clearly alarmed. 

Jules covered her face with her hands, shaking her head. “I’m sorry,” she whispered between sobs, “I don’t know why I’m crying.” 

“You aren’t having second thoughts, are you?” Cullen immediately stood, taking her hands and pulling her up with him. He was somewhat reassured when she didn’t resist his embrace. 

“No!” she said quickly, wiping her cheeks before wrapping her arms around his waist. She pressed her cheek to his chest and could hear his heart still breathing rapidly. “I’m not upset.” Her assurance made him relax a bit. “I’m just-I don’t know.” 

Cullen gently brushed his hand over her hair, kissing the top of her head. “It happens sometimes, when you’re feeling overwhelmed. Especially when it’s your first time being intimate. Not just having sex, but connecting with someone.” His voice grew quieter the longer he spoke. 

Jules was quiet for a long moment, occasionally shaking with a suppressed sob. “I felt so loved,” she whispered. She felt his arms tighten around her. 

“Because you are.” She looked up at him sharply, eyes wide. Cullen smiled, cupping her cheek in his calloused palm. “I thought it was too soon to tell you because I didn’t want to scare you away. But when you bolted earlier I realized I shouldn’t wait. The idea of you never coming back, never knowing…” he chuckled softly, “luckily Morgan knocked some sense into me.” 

“I promise you don’t have to say it back until you’re ready. Even if that’s never. But I need to say it, at least once but I’ll say it as many times as you’ll let me.” His thumb feathered over her cheek and he lowered his forehead to press against hers. “I love you, Jules.”

Her sharp inhale made her whole body shake. Jules was sure she would start balling again. “Do you really?” she whispered shakily. She wanted so desperately to believe him but part of her was also sure that he was stringing her along. 

“I really-” he kissed her lips lightly and met her gaze, “really do. If you don’t believe me yet, you will. I promise. If it takes me the rest of my life I will make you believe it.” Oddly enough, it was the fervent promise that did make her believe it. 

“I’m gonna cry again,” she whispered, closing her eyes and brushing her nose against his. Cullen laughed softly, unable to help himself from showing his relief. 

“That’s okay,” he assured her, lifting his head. 

Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled up at him, making his heart stop. “I've always left after but I would really like to stay. If that’s okay,” she finished quickly. 

“Absolutely.” He released her to try and right the mussed bedsheets, pulling them back for her. “Lay down, I’ll be right back.” Sitting back down on the bed, she laid back, turning on her side to watch him. He returned with a warm washcloth to clean them both. He chuckled at her shudder when he cleaned gently between her thighs. “So responsive,” he teased as he returned to the bed to lay down beside her. 

When he opened his arm, she immediately nestled up against his side, resting her head against his chest as he hugged her against him. He kissed the top of her head and she laid her arm across his midriff. “Will you say it again?” 

Jules could feel his quiet laugh and he ran his fingers up and down her bare arm slowly. “I love you,  _ bijou. _ ” Unable to hold back her giddy smile, she nuzzled into him. Cullen turned off the lights, leaving just the dim glow of the panel. They were both startled when Jasoom landed on the bed. He walked beside Cullen’s legs and then climbed onto his chest. Curling his feet beneath him, he laid down on Cullen’s stomach, nestled against Jules’s arm. 

Between the soft, rumbling purr of the cat and the soft breathing of Jules, Cullen was sure that he was the only one still awake. Closing his eyes, he enjoyed the pleasant feeling of someone snuggled against him. Of the sated feeling of his body. Most importantly he enjoyed the memory of her elated face when he’d told her how he felt. Among other memories. 

“Cullen?” she spoke softly in the darkness, making him hum in acknowledgement sleepily and squeeze her gently. Jasoom purred louder at the slight movement. “I love you too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so fucking happy this slow burn is over! It's as hard to write as it is to read!
> 
> Lemme know what you think!  
> <3 Jacks


	11. Brace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zevran leaves. Cullen isn't well. Cassandra is avoiding Bull. 
> 
> Luckily there's shower smut to save the day!

I've never had to say goodbye to someone before." Jules held back a sob, fingernails digging into her palm. "Is it always this hard?"

"It is. Sometimes worse." Zevran tucked her golden hair behind her ear. "But it is not forever,  _ passerotta _ ."

"You can't know that." But she wanted it to be true.

"No, but I have faith. Those years in which I have had faith in the ones I love have been far more joyous and fulfilling than when I only relied only on myself. Even when they were filled with more danger and strife. And I have incredible faith in you." He pulled her in for a tight hug.

"I see much of my beautiful  _ amore _ in you. Were I already not passionately in love, I would certainly attempt to thwart you Commander's advances." Zevran kissed her forehead. "Though, I can clearly see how happy his success has made you." His suggestive grin made her blush. “Does he not?” 

“He does. So much.” With a glance over her shoulder, Jules met Cullen’s concerned gaze, smiling through her tears. He’d insisted on being there when she said goodbye, expecting it to be rather difficult as she’d never had to do so before. He’d had to comfort her when she woke in the night, stomach turning with anxious anticipation of their parting. 

“Promise me you shall stay in touch?” Zevran requested, clearing his throat. He was starting to get teary-eyed as well. 

“I will. You too. I’ll be anxious to hear that you caught up with Briall and that you’re both safe and together.” 

Zevran closed his eyes for a moment with a wistful smile. “Indeed, I am looking forward to our reunion as well.” Jules threw herself against him again, holding tightly to his waist. She buried her face against his chest, sniffling again. She felt his hand on her hair, stroking with soothing gestures. “ _ Farai cose incredibili, passerotta _ .”

He pulled back and bumped under her chin with a crooked finger. “Goodbye, Jules.” 

Jules stepped back, sniffing and wiping away tears. “Goodbye, Zevran.” 

After his shuttle left the hanger, Jules reluctantly headed toward the small group who had come to see him off. “Are you okay, Jules?” Josephine asked, falling into step beside her. Cullen laced their fingers together, walking on her other side.

“Josephine, what does ‘ _ passerotta’  _ mean?” she asked curiously, distracting herself from the hole in her heart. 

“Sparrow, or little bird. It’s an endearment for children,” Josephine informed her with a smile. 

“Children?” Jules frowned 

“Well, not exclusively. It’s also used for those we teach or mentor. ‘Little bird’ being the one that we are showing how to fly on their own. They are an investment in the future.” 

“Oh,” Jules said softly, feeling tears prickle in her eyes again. “I guess I’m flying on my own now.” 

Cullen squeezed her hand gently. “No, you’ve just joined the rest of the flock.” 

| / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / |

The months following Zevran’s departure allowed her to find some sort of routine and normalcy in her life. She got to know her companions on missions, and got to know Cullen when she was home. Far more often than not, they would sleep together in one of their rooms. There were nights when she would wake and Cullen would be gone. He said it was either because he wanted to get a head start on training or that he was snoring and didn’t want to wake her. She suspected it was something different but she slept so soundly with him that it was difficult to wake her and he certainly wasn’t trying to do that. 

It wasn’t until one night when fear of her own nightmares kept her up that she found out. She was laying in bed, the soft glow of her pad the only illumination as she read. She didn’t want to risk waking him so she’d picked the quiet activity she rarely had time for. Technology had advanced so much and there was an incredible amount to learn. Cullen’s back was to her and he’d been tossing and turning. A fine sheen of sweat covered his skin where the sheets hadn’t wicked it away. 

He started to moan, clutching the sheets. She set her pad aside and sat up slightly, brows furrowed in concern. Cullen curled into himself when she touched his clammy shoulder, an odd spasm wracking his frame. Suddenly he jerked awake, throwing aside the sheets and scrambling from the bed. He disappeared into her bathroom before she’d even shed her own sheets. 

The violent retching she heard made her feet fly across the carpet. By the time she made it to him, he was sitting back, leaning against the shower door and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Silently, she wet a hand towel with warm water and offered it to him. 

He looked up sharply, having not noticed her before. Laying it out on his hands, he buried his face in the warm, damp towel. Jules sat down facing him, crossing her legs in front of her. They sat silently for a few minutes until she reached out to rest her hand on his knee. “Are you okay?” It was almost a whisper. 

“I’m sorry.” It wasn’t really the answer she was looking for. “I was hoping to keep this hidden from you.” Cullen let the towel fall from his face, resting his head back against the shower door and sighing. 

“Lyrium withdrawals?” Jules asked softly. He simply nodded, almost imperceptibly. “Why do you want to hide that from me?” 

“It isn’t your burden to bear. Especially when I know I should be taking it.” 

“Cullen, look at me.” Jules's voice was low, but firm. 

He didn’t open his eyes but he did shake his head again. “Go back to sleep,  _ bijou _ . I’ll go back to my room. I don’t want to keep you up.” 

“Look at me,” she requested again, squeezing his knee. He opened his eyes finally to look at her, the dark amber troubled and more than a little ashamed. “Is this why you disappear in the middle of the night and why you don’t want to share a room?”

Taking her hand from his knee, he kissed her fingers gently. “I’m struggling, Jules. Between loving you and being what you deserve.” 

Jules squeezed his hand gently. “I  _ need _ you, stupid man. I was raised to believe that I don’t deserve anything, let alone love. We all have our regrets and stupid decisions that make us feel less worthy. But you aren’t a regret or a stupid decision, Cullen. You’ve helped me through my nightmares. Let me help you through this.” 

He nodded and opened his mouth to speak, but ended up dropping her hand to hug the toilet, retching into it. She rubbed his back, fretting that she couldn’t do anything to help ease his suffering. When he was finally able to speak, he asked her for water. She left the bathroom to grab a glass for him, talking quietly as she did. 

“Morgan, are you awake? I need your help.” She didn’t get an immediate response and had to hold back the urge to pester an answer from him.

“Yeah, what’s up J?” Came his tired reply. Jules felt bad for waking him but Cullen needed more help than she knew how to supply. 

“Cullen isn’t feeling well and I don’t know what to do,” she said in a rush.

“Symptoms?” He sounded a little more awake now. 

“Um, he’s sweating but he’s cold to the touch. Headache, vomiting. I-I think he’s having lyrium withdrawals. Please don’t tell him I told you though.” She added the last quickly, hiding it beneath the sound of water filling the glass. 

“I won’t,” he immediately promised, “get him in a warm shower, not hot. Aspirin for the headache and ginger for his stomach. Keep the lights low and make sure he drinks as much water as you can get into him.” 

“Okay, what else?” She hovered by the bathroom door. 

“That’s it,” Morgan said apologetically. 

“That’s not a lot.” Jules worried her lower lip with her teeth. 

“I know, J. The best you can do is be with him. Let me know if you need anything else,” he said gently. 

“Thanks, Morgan. I love you.” 

“Love you too.” He sounded sleepy again, already falling back to sleep. 

She walked back to the bathroom and found him sitting against the shower door again. She handed him the water and watched him sip it slowly. “Why don’t you get into the shower and I’ll go get you something for your stomach?” 

He nodded slowly and allowed her to help him stand. She checked the temperature of the water before helping him in. Cullen immediately leaned against the cool tile wall. “I’ll be right back, okay? If you need me sooner, send Jas.” At a weary nod, she left him with Jasoom who was perched on the sink. 

Cullen was still in the shower when she returned with ginger ale and small ginger candies. She helped him out of the shower and was disappointed to find that his fever had not gone down. Jules helped him dry off, though it did very little as he was still sweating. 

She made him sip the ginger ale on the edge of the bed and suck one of the candies to help his stomach before she let him lay down. He laid back on the pillows, covering his eyes with one arm. She turned off the already low lights and climbed back into bed. Jules tried to give him some space but he was having none of it. Turning onto his side he wrapped an arm around her torso and dragged her closer. 

Resting his head on her stomach, he laid diagonally across the bed, holding her tightly against his shivering body. Surprised, but secretly pleased, she draped one arm around him. Her opposite hand brushed through his damp hair soothingly, teasing the curls. Even in pain, sick to his stomach and half delusional, he wanted her. 

“I’m here, Cullen,” she said softly, “and I’m glad you let me in.” He mumbled something incoherent in return, nuzzling against her. Jasoom jumped onto the bed and padded onto her pillow, curling up against her cheek and shoulder. Jules smiled and settled in for the night. Even though Cullen wasn’t feeling well, she still considered herself lucky to be there with him. “My two favorite boys.” 

| / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / |

Jules woke to a tangled mess of sheets and limbs. Cullen had tossed and turned the rest of the night though he’d always stayed close enough to touch her. She was currently tucked against his back with one arm around him. Her hand was captured in his and he held it tightly to his chest. He was no longer feverish, much to her relief. She glanced at the clock and sighed before resting her forehead on his back. She had to meet Cassandra in eight minutes. 

After enjoying a peaceful moment after the activity in the middle of the night, she shook him gently, pulling her hand free from his. He groaned and tried to pull it back, but she sat up and out of his reach. “I’m sorry, I have to meet Cassandra for training. I promised. You should get some more sleep though.” 

“Not as good without you,” he grumbled, the exhaustion apparent in his voice. 

“I’ll only be an hour or so and then we can take a nap. Or, you can keep sleeping and I’ll join you for a nap.” Jules kissed his shoulder and slipped out of the bed. She dressed quickly for training and pulled the sheets up over his shoulders before leaving. 

Though she ran through the corridors and took the stairs two at a time, she was still several minutes late. Cassandra was nothing if not punctual. Her punishment was a more intense training session than usual and Jules already knew that Cassandra’s turn on her training rotation meant intensity. Yet, she had a hard time focusing on the Seeker. Her mind kept going back to Cullen. 

“Pay attention!” Cassandra’s shout brought her back quickly, though not fast enough to avoid the wooden training sword from cracking against her shoulder. Jules jumped back, dropping her own “weapon” to rub her sore muscle. “Is there something you’d like to discuss? Something wrong? If you’re this distracted on the battlefield then you will-”

“Die,” she finished, nodding. “Yes, I know.” It was Cassandra’s favorite training motivation. ‘ _ You will die.’  _

“Really, Jules,” Cassandra stepped forward, resting the sword tip against the floor so that she could lean against it, “is something wrong?” 

“No, I think it’s fine now.” Jules hesitated. “Cullen had a rough night and there wasn’t much I could do for him.” 

“Lyrium withdrawal?” the Seeker asked gently. “Has he finally let you see them?” Jules nodded somberly. “I’m glad. He’s been hiding them for far too long and it was draining on him.” 

“I don’t understand why though.” Jules admitted, biting the inside of her cheek. “I hope he knows I wouldn’t think less of him.” 

“He does,” Cassandra assured her, “but it’s still a difficult thing. He’s so worried that they’ll get the best of him, or that he’ll have to start taking it again. He doesn’t want to be a burden.” 

“That’s so stupid,” Jules blurted out. 

“I agree. But he’s a stubborn man. He made me promise to watch him carefully and remove him from his position if I need to. I can’t imagine what might cause me to make that decision but my promise seemed to ease his mind somewhat,” Cassandra confided. 

“So you know a lot about it? What he’s going through?” Jules hoped that maybe Cassandra might be someone she could go to for advice the next time Cullen wasn’t feeling well. 

“Fortunately, not directly but I have seen it enough times. Lyrium is a very difficult thing to give up. Some people aren’t able to.” 

“They give in and start to take it again?” Jules knew Cullen desperately didn’t want that. 

“Or die,” she said gravely. 

“Die?” Jules cried, startled. “Not taking lyrium can kill you?” 

“It isn’t like other drugs. It stays with you for years, decades even. Some people describe it as a siren’s call. Sometimes it’s distant and you can tune it out. Other times it’s all you can think about and the only thing to stop it is to answer the call.” 

“That’s terrible,” Jules whispered, feeling her throat burn at the thought, “last night was so hard. He was so sick.” She swallowed hard. 

“They’re getting easier. They used to last for days.” Cassandra had meant it to be encouraging, that he was improving. That wasn’t at all what Jules took away from it. 

“Days?” Her brows furrowed. The thought of last night lasting for days broke her heart. 

Cassandra sighed. “You’d best go back to him. You’ll be useless if you keep worrying.” 

“Your motivation methods are unusual, Seeker,” Bull chuckled from the doorway, startling them both. 

"I didn't mean it unkindly," Cassandra said quickly, "I simply meant-"

"I know, I know," he said, holding up his hands in surrender. "You mind giving us some privacy, Boss? Been looking all over for this one." Bull jerked his chin in Cassandra's direction.

Curious, but knowing now that it would be inappropriate to inquire, Jules gathered her things. "I'll make it up to you Cass. Bye Bull!" she called over her shoulder.

Cassandra cleared her throat, crossing her arms over her chest. "How can I help you?"

"You can tell me why you're being weird. If you regret our little coupling that's fine. I haven't mentioned it until now, like I promised but we have to work together. You can't keep avoiding me." 

"I'm not avoiding you," she countered. 

“So then would you like to explain seeing me in the hallway and going the other direction?” he countered. 

“I’d forgotten something in my room.” She said it a little too quickly, as if she’d anticipated this question already. 

“You’ve done it three times,” he said dryly. 

“You saw those?” Defeat was written on her face. 

“Look, whatever it is, just tell me,” he urged, “whatever is going on in that stubborn head won’t hurt me. Promise. I just want to make sure I didn’t hurt you somehow. It’s really important to me that I didn’t hurt you,” he admitted. 

With a sigh, she let her arms drop to her sides. “You didn’t hurt me. You didn’t say or do anything wrong. I enjoyed it. A lot.” Bull could tell that was hard for her to say. “The problem is that I enjoyed it too much. I know that if I don’t disengage, I’m going to get hurt.” 

“What makes you say that?” he asked, genuinely curious. Bull was a master at reading people, but for some reason Cassandra was largely a mystery to him.

“Because what I’m looking for you can’t provide.” She was completely confident in her answer, though it sounded more like she was breaking the news to herself than to him. 

“And what you want is romance. Am I wrong?” Her surprised face said everything he needed to know. “I’ve seen the books you read.” 

“I know they aren’t real and are completely unrealistic,” she defended immediately, “they are a standard in which no man can fulfill.” 

“What makes you think that you can’t get close to it? Specifically, with me. We obviously have chemistry.” The blush on her cheeks told him he’d hit home with that one. 

“I’ve seen. I knew going into your room that I wasn’t, and wouldn’t be, the only one. But I can’t go forward with that knowledge,” she explained slowly. 

“Can I tell you a secret? Something completely mortifying for me?” He risked moving closer to her, even knowing she might bolt. This woman would stand tall and charge down an arch demon if she needed to. But this wasn’t even close to that. At her nod, he lowered his head closer to hers. “I’ve been with one person since you.” 

“It’s been months.” She had a hard time believing that. 

“It’s been  _ months _ ,” he agreed, his inflection indicating torture. “We didn’t even finish. We didn’t finish because I did something I have  _ never _ in my life done before. I called out someone else’s name. Yours, specifically. I am a very careful, calculated and in-control man. When I sleep with someone, my goal is always them.”

Cassandra couldn’t argue with that. The rush she got thinking of that day attested to that truth.

“But you. I can’t get you out of my fuckin’ head.” His voice lowered, the timber sending a shiver down her spine though she would never admit it was anything more than the tickle of dripping sweat. “You are different from any one else I’ve slept with, regardless of gender or race. You, Cassandra, check off  _ all _ of my boxes.” 

“Since I can see that you feel relatively the same way, if you want to make a go of this I promise that as long as we’re doing this, for however long it lasts, there will be no one else.” He chuckled, shrugging a bit. “There isn’t right now anyway.” His finger tucked under her chin, raising her face slightly. “So, will you stop torturing yourself, and me, and allow me to court you, Cassandra Allegra Portia Calogera Filomena Pentaghast.” 

She rolled her eyes slightly and made a disgusted noise. “Yes. As long as you  _ never _ call me that again.” 

“That reminds me. I’m amending one rule.” With his lips so close to hers, all she could do was give a distracted nod. “I get to use one endearment.” 

“What is it?” The breathlessness in her voice was exactly what he was hoping for. 

“Not yet,” he rumbled, “I’m gonna use it for the first time when you’re half mad with pleasure. You’ll like it better that way.” 

She was just about to surge onto her tiptoes to kiss him, when he stood back up. “Dinner first. I wanna do this right.” 

Dammit. That  _ was  _ what she’d asked for but she really wanted that other scenario to happen as well. She cleared her throat, tugging at her shirt to straighten it though it wasn’t out of place. “Tonight?” she asked hopefully. 

“Abso-fucking-lutely.” 

| / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / |

Jules was both surprised and pleased to find Cullen awake when she returned. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, nursing a glass of water. 

“You’re back early,” he said with a smile, “I was just about to jump in the shower.” 

“Oh, that’s fine. You go first, I can wait.” She wasn’t all that sweaty from her short training session anyway. 

“Or you could join me,” he suggested, that crooked smile of his tugging at her heart strings. 

“In the shower?” Her cheeks flushed at the suggestion. “That sounds... _ fun _ .” 

Setting aside the glass, he stood and walked over to her. He was still completely bare from the night before. She couldn’t help but notice the slight bounce of his half-hard cock. Swallowing hard, she forced herself to look up at him. “I can certainly make it that way.” His thick promise made her immediately nod her head. He lowered his head, kissing her neck lightly before whispering in her ear. “I’ll go get the shower ready, you get those damnable clothes off.” 

He started to walk toward the bathroom but she grabbed his hand, tugging him back for a quick kiss before releasing him. Cullen chuckled, watching her lick her lips in anticipation. Once he was out of sight, she undressed quickly, nearly falling over when her leggings got stuck around one ankle as she frantically tugged them off.  _ Thank you Cassandra for letting me go early. _

Jules tried to act calm and collected when she walked into the small bathroom. Cullen was leaning against the sink, arms braced behind him. The water in the shower was just starting to steam. His smile made her giggle, a sound that rarely came from her. 

“Maker, but you are a sight for sore eyes,” he murmured, drinking her in from head to toe.

“Are you sure you’re feeling better?” Jules hesitated. “I mean, enough for...um...fun?”

“I am. Thanks to you. It would have been many more hours of misery if it weren’t for your wonderful nursing skills.” Cullen’s hand moved to the small of her back, the other tilting up her chin to raise her face. She could feel her cheeks burning, both from the praise and because she’d had help she wouldn’t admit to. Instead of the kiss she was expecting when he lowered his head, he kissed her nose and then let her go. Reaching into the shower, he tested the water before stepping aside. “You first,  _ bijou _ .” 

Jules stepped into the small space and found that the water was perfect. Warm enough to soothe her muscles without turning her skin red. She’d started to turn and face him, but his hands on her hips and lips on her shoulder stopped her. 

“Would you let me wash your hair?” he asked against her skin, just loud enough for her to hear over the running water. 

“Only if you’ll let me wash something of yours as well,” she countered. 

“Deal.” Cullen had agreed without hesitation almost before she’d finished. Stepping directly under the water, she let it soak through her hair. Rivulets ran down her cheeks and along her scarred spine. When she opened her eyes again she saw him lathering the shampoo in his hands already. Closing her eyes, Jules presented her head for washing. 

Much to her surprise, the smell of his shampoo filled the shower instead of hers. She couldn’t help but smile at the thought of him wanting his scent on her. His massaging fingers worked magic on her scalp and she found her entire body relaxing at his ministrations. The declaration that he was finished came far too soon for her liking, but she obediently rinsed her hair. 

Wiping the stray water from her eyes, she looked up at him with a smile of gleeful anticipation. “My turn.” 

Cullen chuckled, pushing her wet hair gently behind her ear. “And what is it of mine that you’re planning on washing for me?” 

“Your body,” she declared confidently. His laughter echoed out of the small shower and around the little bathroom. At first, she thought he might be laughing  _ at _ her. That was, until his eyes found hers. They fairly glowed with adoration. 

“Well, I see now that my specificity was my undoing.” This uninhibited side of Jules, coming out of her shell more and more every day was thrilling. The trust she showed in him, relaxing and letting down her guard was both humbling and intimidating. How would he ever live up to the man that she saw when she looked at him?

“That’ll learn ya,” she quipped, reaching around his hip for the bar of soap. She worked up a good lather, then held it out, “hold this for me, please.” Jules found she was still too shy to meet his eyes when she washed his skin, her hands wandering over his shoulders, arms and chest. His muscles flexed under taut skin occasionally, both in reaction to and in anticipation of her touch. 

“Would you like me to turn around so that you can wash my back?” Cullen tried to keep his tone light, despite the growing heat in his blood. 

Mistaking his tone for boredom she shook her head quickly. “No, I’m not done with your front yet.” Determined not to lose her nerve, she slid her hands down his chest and stomach, fingers splayed wide and leaving trails of delicate bubbles in their path. One hand moved around his waist to the small of his back, not daring to go further. Especially when she had such grand ideas for his front. 

The anticipation of her touch had Cullen so wound up that the moment her hand even brushed against his cock, the soap shot out of his tightened grip, flying over her shoulder to hit the tiled wall and then fall to the floor with a dull clatter.

Her eyes snapped up in surprise, but the look on his face reassured her that she hadn’t misstepped. His lips were parted slightly and he let out a shuddering breath. She watched his adam’s apple bob when he swallowed and braced himself with a hand against the cool tile wall beside them. 

Jules looked back down between them as she wrapped her soap slicked hand around him. He let out a low groan, hips involuntarily jerking forward into her tight fist. She explored more than ‘washed’. Watched the way his foreskin covered his swollen head before pulling it back again to reveal an ever reddening need. She teased the ridges of the veins, the sensitive frenulum that made him gasp. She rubbed her palm over the head of his cock as she stroked his length. 

“Jules, I don't know how much longer I can be patient before I take you,” he growled, his fists clenching.

“Thank the Maker. I was starting to think it wasn't working.” She looked up at him with a sly smile.

“You're going to be the death of me.” He tried to laugh, but it turned into a grunt when she started to fondle his sac with her free hand. 

“Oh, however will I sleep at night?” she lamented dramatically.

“You won't, I'll haunt you, every night,” Cullen assured her, bracing his hand on her cheek. 

“Promise?” Jules fairly purred with delight. 

“Absolutely.” His emphatic response was followed by a searing kiss. 

Jules released him to slide her arms around his waist. Slowly, he backed her up until she was trapped between the cool tile wall and his hard, soapy chest. Her hands wandered lower to his backside, squeezing and pulling his hips against hers with a needy whimper against his lips. 

With a huff of a laugh, he broke the kiss. “Yes, ma’am. As you wish,” he murmured, his lips still close enough to brush against hers when he spoke. Jules let out a squeal of surprise as he snaked his arms between her legs, hooking them over his elbows and lifted her. With his hands pressed against the wall, he supported her completely, legs spread so that her lovely pink cunt was exposed for him. 

Pressing his forehead to hers, he shifted his hips until he got to just the right spot. Slowly, he pressed into her. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he growled, his voice a low rumble. Inch by delectable inch, he sank into her tight warmth until he was buried to the hilt. Her little pants and the whimper she gave when he sank home only spurred him on. 

Cullen started with a slow pace, withdrawing almost completely before sinking back in. Her hand slapped onto his chest, their wet skin making it sound sharper than it actually was. Her fingers curled, blunt nails leaving long marks down his chest. The stimulation made his hips snap forward of their own accord and her cry of pleasure bounced off of the tile. 

“Cullen, please, fas-” she stopped short, opening her eyes. 

“Jules, talk to me, remember?” Cullen slowed his pace again, as if that would help him concentrate on her words and not the divine feel of her clenching around him. 

“I don’t want to tell you what to do,” she admitted, biting her lip. 

“ _ Bijou _ , I would be  _ delighted _ if you would do that,” he assured her, grinding his hips into the cradle of her pelvis and against the wall to tease that spot at the pit of her stomach. Another whimper left her lips and she closed her eyes, letting her head thump back against the wall. 

“Then faster, please.” The pleading tone in her voice set his blood on fire. Even if he’d been of a determined mind to take it slow and easy this time, his body couldn’t possibly resist the draw to obey her obvious need. 

He took advantage of her exposed neck, following a drip of water, or perhaps sweat, down the column of her neck with his tongue. Increasing his pace with each thrust, he only stopped when she gasped a satisfied and drawn out ‘yes!’ That was what she’d been looking for. She opened her eyes again and slid her fingers through his wet curls, gripping tightly. 

Kissing back up her neck, he suckled her ear lobe before whispering to her. “I love everything about you. You always give me all of you. So responsive and  _ honest _ .” She gave a sharp moan when he snapped his hips, slamming into her. “And the noises you make, sweet Maker. I wish you knew what you do to me. I wish you could see yourself the way I do.” 

“Cullen,” she moaned, clenching around him and earning another erratic thrust, “please don’t stop.” 

“What?” His husky whisper nearly brought her to her end. “Don’t stop making love to you or don’t stop praising you?” 

“Yes,” she keened, her answer drawn out on the back of a long moan. 

Jules had never encouraged his praise before. She usually blushed at the least or changed the subject. She still didn’t know how to react to his, or anyones, compliments. 

“It’s as if the Maker peered into my dreams and made you for me. Every scar and imperfection is exquisite.” He regretted this position, so desperately wishing to worship her body with his hands as much as his voice. 

“Cullen, I’m so close,” she gasped breathlessly, barely audible over the sound of the shower and their coupling. 

“Don’t hold back. Never hold back. Come for me, love. I die the sweetest death every time you come undone around me.” His voice was a rough growl but also the gentlest of commands. It was the “love” that tipped her over the edge. She still wasn’t used to such affection. Such absolute  _ adoration _ . 

Her nails bit into his scalp and shoulder when she came, clenching around him. As it was most of the time when he was with her, her release triggered his own. The way she felt, how she would either yell his name or whisper it in breathlessness called to him. 

With stuttered, erratic thrusts he spilled inside of her. Cullen buried his face against her neck, her wet hair clinging to both of their cheeks. His grunts and groans of pleasure slowed as his release did until they were both left panting, Jules clinging to him so tightly it made his heart soar. Like he was her anchor. Maker, like she needed him. 

“This is all rather convenient.” Her soft voice in his ear made a small aftershock of pleasure shoot down his spine. 

“What’s that?” he asked with a breathless chuckle, raising his head to look at her. Her cheeks were flushed, most likely from the exertion and the hot water running over their sides. It spread down her neck and chest, leaving a splotchy pattern that he found quite satisfying. 

“Sex in the shower. Zero effort clean-up.” Her grin made his heart clench. 

“As if taking care of you after is a burden. In fact, I quite enjoy it.” 

She hummed in affirmation and smiled. “So do I.” He slowly started to lower her legs but she hissed and grasped his shoulders. “Slowly! I didn’t notice how stiff my hips were getting when you were so expertly pleasuring me.” 

He kissed her forehead, slowing his motions. She almost sounded apologetic for being sore. “Completely my fault. I promise I-”

“Don’t you dare say you won’t do it again!” Jules said quickly as her feet touched the warm, wet tiles beneath them. 

“I absolutely couldn’t make that promise,” he assured with a soft laugh, grasping her arms to keep her steady. “I was going to promise to be more gentle.”

Cullen still enjoyed the aftercare of their love-making. Washing and toweling her dry, he swept an arm under her knees and around her back. With an excited squeal as he literally swept her off her feet, she wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder. 

Setting her on her feet again, he unwrapped the towel from her lithe form and pulled back the covers for her to slip beneath. “The nap certainly sounds more appealing now,” she smiled, wiggling into the cool sheets to warm them. With a hum of agreement, Cullen walked to the other side of the bed and laid down. 

As was their routine, he laid on his back and spread his arm across her pillows. She immediately tucked herself against his side, resting her head on his shoulder so that he could wrap his arm around her. She threw her own across his torso and draped her leg over his thighs. He loved the gentle possessiveness of her favorite cuddling position. He had to admit he enjoyed it too. It seemed to chase away nightmares for both of them. 

Kissing the top of her head, Cullen closed his eyes and listened to her breathing slow and even out. The grip of her arm around his chest loosened when she fell asleep. He was just drifting off into darkness himself when he noticed a low rumble, growing steadily louder. It seemed as if the entire hull was starting to vibrate. Just when he opened his eyes, alarmed at the disturbance, the klaxon started. Jules sat up abruptly, glancing around. 

“IMMINENT IMPACT! BRACE, BRACE, BRACE!” The comms blared, making his ears ring. With a roughness borne purly of urgency, he pushed Jules back down onto the bed and blanketed his body over hers. His arm wrapped around her like an iron vice and his opposite hand grabbed the top of the metal headboard with a white knuckled grip. 

Then, he did as ordered and braced. 

  
  
  
  
  


farai cose incredibili=you will do amazing things

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Now that the slow burn is over, there will be smut in most every chapter, except for the main story ones (like the next one 😬) where there simply isn't space. Slow burns are definitely not for this thirsty girl!
> 
> I love to hear what you think so leave a comment if you'd like!
> 
> <3 Jacks


	12. Moment of Impact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's happening elsewhere on the ship before and during the impact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little bit shorter than usual. Now that I've gotten out all of the giveaway prizes done, I can get back to this!

Bull was starting to get used to having more than just his Chargers on the  _ Ataashi. _ And yet, the increasingly frequent presence of the Inquisition’s ambassador was a surprise. The Antivan was back again, for the third time in two weeks. She sat at their table, directly next to Krem who was hunched over an antique clock with his sleeves rolled up over his elbows.

Josephine’s slightly glossed lips were upturned in a smile, as they usually were, but the glittering in her eyes indicated that it was genuine. Not that most people who weren’t him could tell the difference. It seemed Krem could though. He was grinning like an idiot, paying more attention to her than the work he was doing. 

“Old thing busted again?” Bull asked, startling both of them. 

Josephine recovered quickly and smiled sheepishly up at him. “It’s worked perfectly for three generations yet it’s been breaking constantly as of late.” 

“Could that be because Krem knows engines, not clocks?” Bull suggested with a chuckle, sitting down on Krem’s other side.

“C’mon Chief! They’re the same principle.” Krem lowered his head back to his work. After securing the last gear, he replaced the back brass plate and held it up to his ear. “Like a mama’s heartbeat.” He grinned triumphantly, holding out the clock to Josephine. 

“Thank you, Krem!” She stood and tucked it carefully under her arm. Leaning over, she planted a kiss on his cheek. As a result, they colored slightly and the stupid grin returned to his face. 

“As always, my pleasure Ambassa-Josephine. Josie.” Krem cleared his throat. “My pleasure Josie,” he stuttered, correcting himself quickly. He ran a hand through his hair with a sheepish smile. 

Josie turned to the door and Bull jabbed Krem with his elbow. He thrust his head in her direction, eye widening. His meaning hit Krem quickly. “Let me-uh-let me walk you out!” Krem said in a rush, shooting to his feet and falling into step beside her. 

“I need you back here!” Bull called after them, receiving a dismissive wave in response. 

His second returned a few minutes later. Eager to keep the conversation off of himself and the ambassador, he plopped down next to Bull. “Did you finally corner your skittish lover, Chief or did you scare her off again?” 

“I didn’t scare her off.” Bull hooked an arm over the back of his chair and drew up one foot, resting it on the opposite knee. “Her intense emotions scared her off. She doesn’t know what to do with them.” 

“And are you going to fix that?” Krem gave his boss a stupid, shit-eating grin. 

“Krem, let me give you some advice.” Bull sat up again and leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “It’s advice that’s probably pertinent given the infatuation you have with Ambassador Montileyet.”

“I don’t have an infatuation with-” 

“Shut it, Krem. You know you can’t lie to me. See, that’s the thing. It’s a little scary for us too, isn’t it? When one night stands don’t feel like enough,” Bull started. 

“Boss, I haven’t done anything with her.” Krem immediately defended. 

“I didn’t say you did. But,  _ if _ you did, would it be enough?” He challenged. 

“No, I suppose it wouldn’t be,” Krem admitted after a moment’s compilation. 

“You don’t change someone you want to be with. You change for them. With them. Not just about you anymore.” 

“That’s pretty profound, Chief. You’ve got some research to do though.” Krem laughed. 

“How do you figure that?” Bull’s eyebrow raised over his patch. 

“You ever read one of those-eh-novels that she likes, Chief?” 

“Don’t need to. I get the gist of it,” Bull dismissed. 

“I don’t think you do. It isn’t just ‘members and bosoms’. It’s gestures and bonding. Sex isn’t the only appeal of smutty writing. I really think you should give one at least a quick skim.” Krem pressed. 

“Good idea! I’ll borrow one of yours!” Bull laughed. 

Krem opened his mouth to retort but an odd rumble distracted him. Almost immediately, the  _ Herald’s  _ klaxon started, muted by the  _ Ataashi’s _ walls. Concerned, the two met eyes. Then, on the open comms they shared with the flagship, they heard the warning. 

“IMMINENT IMPACT! BRACE, BRACE, BRACE!” 

Krem jumped up and sprinted toward the door leading out to the hanger. Bull bellowed after him, struggling to move as fast as the Vint could, which of course he couldn’t. “She wouldn’t be somewhere safe yet!” He yelled back at his boss, not slowing. There was no way he would catch up to Krem and he didn’t know which way he would be going. With a frustrated growl, he settled back into one of the seats, pulling the harness over his shoulders and waiting for the jolt. 

Krem shot across the hanger toward the corridor leading to the upper decks. “Josephine!” he shouted after her, deep voice carrying even over the din. He saw her turn, startled, though he wasn’t sure if it was because of him or the alarms that made it next to impossible to hear let alone think. 

As the shaking started to rattle his bones, he captured her in his arms and the clock crashed to the floor. The ship rocked, listing abruptly to one side at an extreme angle. Krem twisted them as they fell to the floor, taking the brunt of the impact with a grunt. The groan of metal against whatever they’d hit, or been hit with, was deafening, making his ears ring. His arm was locked around Josephine, pinning her arms against her side and her body against his. His other hand cradled her head to his chest as they slammed into a far wall further down the corridor. 

_ The Herald _ righted itself with a shudder, though he didn’t move until he was sure that everything had settled and that the immediate danger had passed. Krem sat up gingerly, pain shooting down his arm and back from his shoulder. 

“Are you okay?” he asked Josephine as she drew her head up from his, looking up at him with a blank stare. “Hey, are you hurt?” Was he yelling? He felt like he was yelling. 

Josephine seemed to come to and nodded. As he helped her stand, not letting go of her hand, the alarm tone changed. He didn’t recognize this one but he was sure it wasn’t to let everyone know everything was fine.

| / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / |

Morgan’s fingers moved over the ivory keys, cathartic in their familiarity. The piano’s dulcet notes filled the library and his choice of pieces matched the ambiance of the leather books, walnut wood, and crimson carpets. The acoustics of the space were perfect for the piano. It was also ideal for when Jules played violin to accompany him, but she was busy this morning. 

Which was fine. He enjoyed playing by himself. There was something relaxing about it, being able to put all of your energy into a song and not having to worry about anyone catching your mistakes. Not perfect, just passion. Alone with your creation. 

“You’re quite the accomplished pianist.” Dorian’s voice startled him, fingers slamming onto the keys with an unharmonious halt. 

“Andraste’s itchy g-string!” Morgan shouted, turning quickly. “Do you make any fucking noise when you walk?” 

Dorian pondered a moment and then shook his head. “No. I was taught to walk with a certain grace that does not allow for “noise”. Though I do apologize for startling you. That was not my intention.” 

“No, it’s-” Morgan sighed, running a hand through his black hair, “-it’s fine. I’m sorry for yelling. And swearing.” 

Dorian chuckled, settling to the high back leather chair next to the piano. It was his favorite reading spot. 

“Any requests?” Morgan turned back to the piano, hands hovering over the keys. 

“Something...fragile,” Dorian requested. 

“Interesting request.” He thought for a moment before starting to play. A soft slow tune that sounded more like the tinkling of bells as his fingers moved. The mage’s eyes closed for a moment and the barest smile graced his lips. Finally, he opened his book and started to read, Morgan would chance a glance every so often, just to see if the smile was still there.

They had been doing this for a few weeks now. Meeting in the library before lunch. Occasionally they would eat together. Though they didn’t seem to have much in common on the surface, they found much to talk about. They both shared a love of classical music and history. Both were fairly well-traveled and enjoyed exotic foods. Despite all of that, they just seemed to...fit. 

Morgan was partway through his second piece when the piano started to vibrate. The keys seemed to jump slightly and the strings warbled the notes. With a frown, he stopped. The lights dimmed and turned red. The accompanying alarm made his ears ring. 

“IMMINENT IMPACT! BRACE, BRACE, BRACE!” The library was filled with din and chaos where just moments before a relaxing haven had been created. Morgan realized quickly that this room was a terrible place to be. The piano was secured to the floor but most of the other furniture wasn’t. The books were behind brass bars, but they were set low so you could still take them out. The bars were meant to keep them from falling off with slight shifts. Full impacts could send them flying around the library. 

“Come here!” Dorian shouted as he moved to the corner that seemed to have the least number of deadly projectiles nearby. 

Morgan followed without question. Dorian pressed them both into the corner and threw up his hands. Shimmering blue surrounded them but the barrier didn’t soften the growing rumble. Though he’d set his stance wide, the impact nearly threw him off his feet. He slammed into the wall behind them as the room spun and titled. Dorian fell against him and the shield started to flicker. 

He helped the mage to stay upright, using his own stocky body to support him. Books slid across the floor, piling up against the barrier at their feet. Eerily, everything was completely silent in their little bubble except for Dorian’s hard breathing. The moment the world returned to its proper horizontal state, the barrier fell. 

“Are you alright?” Morgan asked, resting a concerned hand on the mage’s shoulder as he braced himself on his knees. Dorian waved dismissively and nodded. His perfectly coifed hair mussed. 

The red lights shifted back to their normal, steady cool white, but the alarm didn’t stop. It only changed in tone, though it was no less annoying. 

“We need to find out what happened!” Dorian shouted over the klaxon. 

“Wait!” Morgan reached out, hooking his hand around the back of Dorian’s neck and pulling him close. He pressed a quick, but no less passionate kiss to his lips. “That’s for saving my ass.” Dorian blinked at him in surprise, surprisingly speechless. “And I’ve wanted to do it for a while. Shall we go?”

| / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / |

“I cannot wait to meet Jules!” Delta exclaimed, sitting across the table from Dr. Casrien. Or, Cas, as he’d insisted. “I must have read everything you sent me half a dozen times. She’s absolutely astounding. A marvel of technology beyond her time!” The human pulled the long, grey wool cardigan’s sleeves up where they’d fallen below her wrists. “But really, surely there must be someone else more qualified to help with her quandary.”

Cas took a sip of his coffee before setting down his cup. He picked up his pad, opening the file where he kept his research on Jules. “There were several options, but you were the most qualified. Your reading comprehension is through the roof so you can catch up quickly on what I’ve already found. Your specialty in bionics is frankly astonishing given your age. Even though it’s mostly been theoretical until now, I wouldn’t have guessed you’d be hesitant to see your theories come to life.” 

“Oh, I’m not, at all!” Delta said quickly, holding up her hands. “The way they went about it isn’t how I would do it, but they also integrated multiple bionic organs successfully into a living creature so I suppose I shouldn’t judge.” 

“Definitely judge. I do.” His face twisted slightly into a snarl. “What they did to that poor woman was vile. But, that’s why I’m so desperate to help her. Between the two of us, I think we have a really good shot at untethering her from this beast.” 

“You are right. We can definitely untangle her from  _ The Herald’s _ programming, but not without shutting down her entire system so to speak. They wrote so much of what allows her to function in the programming of the ship, instead of the bionics themselves. I don’t know if that was on purpose or a limitation at the time of the technology.” Delta turned on her pad and leaned against the table they shared. “She’ll need some sort of vessel with similarly large programming to function. The data just takes up so much space.

She was fairly tall for a human woman though she usually wore leggings and oversized sweaters or cardigans which made her look shorter and hid her slim body. She was terrible at flirting and her wardrobe usually prevented such uncomfortable interactions. And it was extremely comfortable. Her most unique feature though was her eyes. Like Jules, she had mismatched eyes. Also like Jules, it wasn’t a natural occurrence. She’d had her eye replaced to allow her to read, and therefore research faster. While Jules’s was a stormy grey, her engineered eye was an icy blue.

Delta de Fairlyn hadn’t voiced her fear yet, but she was terrified that the woman would reject her for that. Delta had decided to alter her vision. Jules had not. She so desperately wanted the woman to like her. Scientific curiosity aside, she’d heard that Jules was a genuinely nice and warm person. And, introverted like herself. 

“I wouldn’t be surprised to learn it was the former. Keep her where they wanted her.” Cas grunted, setting down his pad. “From her records and what I’ve been able to learn, do you think it’s possible that we can give her independence? Not tethered to any ship or technology?” 

“I do,” Delta affirmed immediately, though she did frown slightly, “I just don’t know how long it will take.” 

“We should probably get to it then.” He picked up his pad again, but something distracted him from turning it on. “Do you hear that?” Cas cocked his head slightly, trying to determine where the sound of rattling glass and metal was coming from. Everywhere, he realized. The whole ship was shaking. 

“What’s going on?” Delta asked curiously. “Is this normal?” 

“No, it isn’t.” Cas stood and it was as if that action set everything into motion. Red lights flashed and a deafening alarm went off. The intercom blared to life, impossibly louder than the klaxon. 

“IMMINENT IMPACT! BRACE, BRACE, BRACE!”

Cas dropped his pad and jumped over the table. He grabbed Delta’s arm and started dragging her to the far side of the medical bay. “The quarantine room will be safest,” he shouted, leading them to the enclosed room at the end of the lab. His hand on the pad opened it. With the other hand gripping the door frame, he swung around to hit the pad on the other side. The door closed so quickly, her sweater was nearly caught in it. “The tables are reinforced, hold tight!”

She did as instructed, wrapping her arms around one of the guard rails on the bed. Cas stood behind her, holding tight to the same bar to ground them both. When the impact came, it threw her into the bed railing, knocking the wind out of her. Before she could recover, the room turned toward the other side and she had to grip the railing tighter to keep from sliding across the floor and into the other bed. 

The speakers in the room weren’t connected to the rest of the comms system so the alarm sounded muffled and distant. Delta could hear her heartbeat in her ear like a drum and her strangled breathing as she struggled to regain her breath. 

She didn’t even realize that everything had settled until Cas gripped her shoulders. “Hey, breathe with me. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Good. Long breaths.” She stood up when she felt she could breathe again and the panic of suffocation faded away. 

“What in the Maker’s name was that?” Delta had to speak up over the alarm, even muffled. She hadn’t even noticed that it had changed. It was all the same to her. Terrifying. 

“I don’t know, but people are going to be hurt. How good are you at nursing?” 

| / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / | \ | / |

Cassandra checked her hair in the mirror for the 80th time since she’d finished dressing. It was short for a reason. Because it was easy to keep. She shouldn’t have to keep checking it. But, she did. She also kept catching herself with that stupid, love-struck smile. Tugging on her uniform jacket once more, she decided that fretting wouldn’t do and left for her shift before she could change her mind. 

She caught up with Varric in the corridor and he fell into step beside her. “Where are you headed to, Seeker?” 

“Control room. For my shift.” Maker save her, if anyone would notice her change in attitude, it would be that damn dwarf. “You?” Perhaps if she could shift the focus off of herself…

“Just up and about for a walk. If I write too long it stiffens up my shoulders and makes my ass hurt.” He chuckled, glancing up at her. “Can I escort you to your destination?” 

“If you’d like,” she allowed, “and if you don’t have anything better to do.” 

“Not right now. I’m ahead on my writing and don’t have anything planned until that cute, curvy elf at the bar goes on shift. She’s good for a challenging, philosophical conversation. Nightengale should really consider recruiting her. That woman sees things.” Cassandra could see him side-eyeing her. “Speaking of seeing things; you’re in a rather good mood. 

“I am in my normal mood,” she dismissed. 

“No, you aren’t. You aren’t scowling or making that noise you usually make.” His grin was driving her mad. She grunted and rolled her eyes. “That one!” He pointed at her, eyes merrily glittering. “You usually make it the very second you see me and every few minutes thereafter. You’ve only done it once. What’s got you so congenial? Finish another good smutty novel?” 

“Yes,” she said quickly, grasping onto his suggestion. “A new favorite author.” 

“Oh? I wonder if I know them. Who is it?”  _ Damn it, Cassandra. Keep your lies simple! _

“I don’t think you’d know her. She’s from Antiva. A little younger than you.” Perhaps if she could convince him they didn’t run in the same circles he wouldn’t press for a name. She was terrible at making up names. 

“Ah, well,” he chuckled, “No one writes smut like a 30-something woman. They have the best imaginations and aren’t afraid to write it like it is.”

“Indeed,” she agreed. 

“Here we are,” he declared, opening the door for her, “I’ll leave you to your work. Until next time, Seeker.” 

“Thank you for the company,” she said with a nod, “enjoy your afternoon.” 

Relieved that the conversation was over, she headed to the officer’s chair in the rear center of the control room. Leliana stood as she approached, offering her the chair. “Anything to report?” she asked the Orlesian as she settled into the seat. Leliana sat in the second commander’s chair beside her and leaned against the arm toward Cassandra. 

“Nothing of interest. What  _ is _ interesting is you.” Leliana rested her chin on her palm. She crossed her legs and her foot bounced as she smiled knowingly at the Seeker. 

“Maker’s breath, not you too!” Cassandra growled, running her hand over her face in annoyance. 

Leliana’s musical laugh drew the attention of several of the people at  _ The Herald’s  _ controls. “Does it have anything to do with a certain Qunari you ‘bumped’ into a while ago?” 

“Will you please keep your voice down?” Cassandra hissed, cheeks burning. 

“Did you ‘bump’ into him again?” Leliana’s red brows raised suggestively. 

“Yes. No!” She blurted quickly. “We talked. Just...talked.” 

“About ‘bumping’?” Leliana giggled. 

“I really wish you would stop using that word. Especially how you’re saying it.” Cassandra composed herself and then turned in her chair to face Leliana. “We talked. Not directly about-” she couldn’t bring herself to use the word “-bedroom relations. We agreed that we would like to see where it goes. Slowly. Like normal people. We’re having dinner together tonight.” Despite how annoyed she was with Leliana right now, the woman was one of her closest friends. The only other person who knew about her relationship with Bull was Jules. At least, she  _ hoped _ no one else knew. Not yet.

“Ma’am?” One of the pilots glanced over his shoulder at them. “I’m getting an odd pull to the starboard side.”

“Explain.” Cassandra stood, walking to his station. To the side, a woman spoke up. 

“I think a rift is opening in the same direction.” Her voice was filled with the kind of concern that came with inexperience. Wonderful. 

With quick strides, Cassandra returned to the chair, looking at the screen showing the data from the rift. “That can’t be. It’s far too large.” 

Brilliant green light filled the portal and blinded everyone in the control room for a brief moment. A growing, ominous vibration started when the light died away. She could only see part of the rift from the side of the portal, but what she saw she didn’t much care for. The rift was large, at least twice the size of  _ The Herald _ . Rolling clouds of viscous black boiled in the center and something started to drift out of it. 

It appeared to be a ship, though it wasn’t like any Cassandra had ever seen before. It almost looked like it was alive. No,  _ had been  _ alive. As if someone had built a ship out of scraps using a dragon’s carcass as a shell. It left a trail of debris behind it.  _ The Herald _ started to shake harder as it got closer. Rapidly closer. 

“Move, now!” Cassandra snapped at the pilot. “Get us out of its path!” 

“I can’t!” The pilot’s voice squeaked with panic. “It’s coming too fast!” He sounded like he might start hyperventilating at any moment. 

“Raise the alarm, broadcast a shipwide collision warning. Harnesses on!” Her voice was commanding, quelling the panic in the control room so that her people would focus on her and their duties. Fear would cost lives. 

“IMMINENT IMPACT! BRACE, BRACE, BRACE!” The speakers echoed the young woman at the comms as she sent out the alert. 

The decaying vessel’s yawning maw opened as it approached, preparing to take a bite out of  _ The Herald’s  _ hull. “When it hits, we need to open the armories and get everyone to their battlestations. Immediately! They will be boarded and we will respond in a manner befitting the Inquisition. Understood?” Her unflappable composure had a visible impact on everyone in the control room. They repeated her orders back even as they buckled in harnesses. Cassandra’s hands gripped the chair arms as she prepared for the impact, glancing at Leliana beside her. 

“ _Fils de pute_ ,” she murmured to Cassandra, barely audible over the alarm, “ _on est baisé_.”

Yes _ ,  _ Cassandra thought, we _ are  _ fucked _.  _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for taking the time to read this. I love you all so much for your support and kind words! 
> 
> <3 Jacks


	13. Maker, Save the Herald

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> God, I suck at these...okay, let's see...
> 
> The Herald is under attack and Jules tries her best to keep it together and protect everyone on board, especially those she loves. Once she sees her enemy face to face, she's even more determined to kick his ass.

Cullen did his best to shield Jules from harm when the ship listed and they were thrown against the headboard, then off the bed. They hit the floor in a tangle of limbs and sheets. It felt like hours before  _ The Herald _ righted herself. He’d thought he’d absorbed the brunt of the fall, until he felt Jules grab his arm, nails digging painfully into his skin. 

She was gasping and quaking. He rolled her onto her back, looking her over for anything that might have been broken. “Can’t...catch...brea…” she wheezed, struggling to draw in air. Her back arched, brows furrowing in pain. “With-with….with me…” 

He caught on quickly, resting his hand against the center of her chest. “In,” he took a long breath in through his nose, “out,” and released it through his mouth. Cullen repeated that with her several times, until the jolting inhales started to even out and she could breathe smoothly. 

Tears streamed from the corners of her eyes, face contorted in pain. “Something hit us...hurts so much” she took several long breaths before her fingers relaxed, nails no longer digging into his skin. 

His concern for her was drowned out by fury, red bleeding into his vision. What possible benefit could that have? What if the ship was damaged to the point that she was incapacitated and unable to help. She knew the vessel more than anyone. Report immediately what was wrong and how to fix it. But not if she was in so much pain she couldn’t breathe, let alone stand. 

Jasoom paced at her head, occasionally nudging it with his own. She reached up for him, her hand burying in his fur and gripping. It must have hurt, but he just licked at her wrist affectionately. The time it took for her to recover felt as if it was longer than their fall by an eternity. 

Jules sat up and slid an arm around his neck, burying her face against his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, holding her until she was strong enough to stand. He could tell by the look in her eyes that she was still in pain, but he’d learned to recognize that edge of determination. 

“Wait, is that-” Cullen hadn’t noticed that the lights had returned and the alarm had changed. It sounded like the one Jules had deliberately set off to get them into the armory. That felt like a lifetime ago. 

“We’ve been boarded,” she confirmed grimly. 

She pulled open a drawer and rifled through it for a jumpsuit and underclothes. She didn’t even bother to close the drawer, frantically pulling on her clothes. Cullen dressed quickly as well, strapping his sword to his waist. Once she had her boots on, he helped her into her harness, slipping her blades across her back where they would be out of the way, but easily accessible. 

Without further conversation, they left her room. She jogged down the hallway, nearly getting bowled over at the junction had Cullen not grabbed her collar and yanked her back. The man, both unfamiliar in face and dress, turned quickly toward them. Cullen pushed her behind him, cutting down the man before he could even process that there were two people, not just Jules. 

He checked either side of the hallway before looking down at their attacker. 

“Is that a Templar?” The surprise in her voice mirrored his confusion. 

“It is.” He looked back at her. 

“I thought they agreed to help us?” Jules didn’t know why she was asking, they both knew the answer. 

“They didn’t like the idea of being associated with the mages through us. Perhaps that became a deal-breaker for them.” 

Jules bent, pulling back the man’s collar. Something red and crystalline was protruding from his neck. “Isn’t that red lyrium?” She glanced up at Cullen, found his face grim. Varric had pounded the dangers of the stuff to anyone and everyone who would listen. She snatched her hand back quickly. “I wonder if that has anything to do with it.” 

“Come on, we need to get to Control,” he grabbed her elbow gently but she pulled it free. 

“You need to rally what few soldiers we have on board. I need to go to Control and figure out what damage has been done. More importantly why the comms aren’t working. The damage is to the starboard side of the ship, midsection, lower decks. That’s probably where they’re making entry.” Jules rushed to give him all of the information quickly. Though her job in combat had changed, she slipped quickly into battle mode. 

“You’re asking me to leave you.” A statement, not a question. 

“You have to,” she said softly, as reluctant to part ways as he was. She stood up onto the balls of her feet and kissed him, hands framing his face. The warmth of his hand on the small of her back was grounding, even as brief as it was. Cullen pressed his forehead to hers for a moment. 

“I love you. You have to stay safe, do you understand? I can’t-” his voice cut off, choking with emotion. 

“I love you too.” Jules kissed him again. 

“Take Jasoom with you.” As if on command, the cat wove through his feet, bumping his head against Cullen’s ankle. “At least I know you won’t be alone.” 

She smiled wanly. “As if you could tear him away.” 

Before he could think better of it, he turned and disappeared down an adjacent hallway. Jules, too, pushed her concern to the back of her mind. “Scout ahead?” she asked the black cat who trotted away. He would warn her if anyone was in her path. 

She didn’t encounter anyone on her way to Control, confirming that they were being boarded from the other side of the ship. Control itself was in utter chaos. Cassandra was shouting orders, sending messengers out who brushed past her with quick steps and bleak faces. 

“Jules!” The Seeker hugged her briefly. “I’m so glad you’re safe. Cullen?” 

“Tending to the intruders,” she said briefly. 

Cassandra nodded, leading her to a display panel. She played back the recording of the enormous rift opening and the monstrosity that it vomited. Jules had them play it back twice more. 

“Why would Templars be on that?” Jules frowned, brows furrowing. 

“Templars?” Cassandra sounded confused. “We got reports that Venatori were on board.” 

“Cullen and I ran into one. He had red lyrium on his neck. Or rather, growing out of it. Who are the Venatori?” She didn’t think she’d heard of them before. 

“They’re a group of mages from Teviner who believe they are morally, magically, and genetically superior.” Cassandra summed up quickly. “Do you think you can close the rift?” 

“It’s huge!” Jules balked, shaking her head. “It’s almost as large as the Breach. And I failed miserably at that.” 

“You didn’t fail. You got us time. That’s all we need here.” 

“I’ll do what I can.” Jules furrowed her brows, pressing a hand into her burning side. She still couldn’t take as deep a breath as she would like but she would have to push through. 

Jules wasn’t even sure if she could close a rift from such a vast distance. She’d only ever done it with her feet on solid ground before. Even her attempt to close the Breach had been planet-side. Or, moon-side rather.

Stepping toward the portal, she took a longer look at the rift. She couldn’t see the massive ship that had attached itself like a parasite to  _ The Herald’s  _ side, but it must have been huge to require such a large doorway. Closing her eyes, she tried to steady herself. Push away the throbbing pain that she shared with  _ The Herald’s _ , her worry for Cullen and Morgan, as well the countless others she cared for facing Templars and Venatori and Maker knew what else. Jasoom wove himself between and around her feet and she focused on his intense purring, letting him ground her. 

Brows set in concentration, she opened her eyes and extended her hand toward the rift. Her fingertips tingled as the mark recognized her intent. It started to spread up her arm, turning into a familiar burn. Before she could reach out to choke the energy of the rift, the air shimmered in front of her. 

“Fuck!” she shouted, stumbling backward as a figure appeared directly in front of her. He was far taller than she was, a mass of skeletal and armored features melded into one single form covered in rags. It was as if he had no muscles, just bones and an insect like exoskeleton. 

It was his face that Jules couldn’t take her eyes off of. The Templar outside her room appeared to have a small crystal of red lyrium growing from his skin. This man-or demon, she wasn’t sure- seemed to have it growing from his very bones. The whole left side of his face was stretched and distorted by shards growing from the side of his head, ear completely gone. His face was pockmarked and stretched, signs of growth beneath the skin threatening to erupt. His eyes were dead and yet filled with rage. 

“You!” he snarled, taking a step toward her. Jules took two steps back. Galaxies wouldn’t be enough distance between them. “You are the bane of my existence!” 

Someone made a rush at the  _ thing _ but went right through him. He didn’t even seem to notice. 

“Ages ago, longer than you can fathom, I dreamt of serving the Old Gods of the great Empire of Tevinter. I breached the Fade to serve with them, learn from them. To become one of them. I found nothing, no one. Whispers of power. Decay to mirror the future of my great Empire. I wallowed and wandered in confusion until I realized my true purpose.

“The whispers helped me find that. After a millennium I have returned to bring Tevinter back to its rightful glory and the rest of Thedas to its knees. Where it belongs. I was weak when I returned to this world, imprisoned by people better than you.” He started to walk around her in a wide circle, still heedless of anyone else in the room. Jules tried to gather herself. To do something-anything! It was as if his very gaze paralyzed her, rooting her to the spot. 

“Nearly a century ago, after years of planning, I tried to use the souls of my tormentors, my captors, to free myself. Instead,  _ you _ went into the fade. You! A half-human experiment tied to a machine! A parasite so far removed from humanity that your soul wasn’t even counted among those of your crewmates.” His eyes seemed to flare with hellfire. 

The fear that held her in place evaporated. She was thrown back into her past, the faces of those who thought less of her flashing in her mind’s eye. Jules was no parasite. As cruel as they were, they didn’t deserve to be fuel for some dark magic.

“Then you returned. Again! Interrupted a ritual decades in the planning. You stole the Anchor and its true purpose. You flail like an infant at rifts. Rifts I designed to assault the very heavens. You undo my work and you don’t even know how or why,” he snarled, glowering down at her. He returned to the front of the Control room. For the first time, he acknowledged the others around her. 

“Exalt the Elder One. The  _ will _ that is Corypheus. You will kneel. You will  _ all _ kneel.” His eyes, livid and raging, settled on her again. “I am coming for the anchor. I am coming for you. If I cannot remove it, I’ll destroy you with it and start anew. I will not be prevented from being the God the world needs to bring order to this chaos. Or,-” his voice turned sickly sweet “-you can join me. I will keep you as my revered pet and you can watch the worlds that have so mistreated you be rebuilt in my image.”

Jules didn’t even have to think of her answer. “I think I’ll have to decline. I’ve recently found my humanity. I’ve already ruined your plans without even trying. I’m just learning my worth. Imagine what I can do to you when I fully find myself.” She amazed herself with the confidence she projected in her voice while her body felt like crumbling into a quivering mess. 

Corypheus’s gaze turned, impossibly, more furious. Had he thought that his speech was terrifying enough to make her turn to him and beg for mercy? “I’m coming for you, Jules.” He turned, looking at the swirling rift from the portal. “You should try your hand at closing my newest rift. It isn’t at all like the others, as you can see. Perhaps my problem will take care of itself.” 

His figure shimmered again, dissipating as quickly as it had appeared. Jules let out a rush of air, grasping her side again. Her racing heart pressed against her ribs, trying to break free. Cassandra’s hand rested on her shoulder, startling her. 

“Are you alright?” she asked softly so no one would overhear. 

“I’m fine,” Jules answered, perhaps a bit too quickly. “I have to close that rift.” 

“Do you think that’s wise?” Cassandra let her hand fall back to her side, though the concern in her eyes remained. 

“He might be bluffing,” Jules pointed out, trying to take shallow breaths. 

“We can’t take that chance. We will have to fight them back and recapture  _ The Herald.” _ Cassandra’s tone suggested both a professional and personal concern for keeping Jules from closing the rift. 

“I,” Jule’s throat closed with a mix of emotion and overwhelming pain, “I don’t know if we can. The damage looks and feels extensive. I think the only thing keeping us pressurized is whatever seal they created to be able to board.”

Jules looked up at Cassandra sharply, eyes lighting up with an idea. “I need to find Solas.” 

She heard Cassandra call after her, but between the pain ripping through her body and their lack of time, she couldn’t answer her questions just yet. Jasoom trotted out in front of her when she left Control. 

“Do you know where Solas is?” she asked, already striding after the cat. He gave a small ‘mhrrp’ sound and led her through the corridors. It seemed that Cullen was so far successful in pushing back the flow of Corypheus’s forces from the parasitic ship. She encountered no one although she could hear the distant echo of battle coming from several directions. He and his men were keeping the battle contained on the starboard side of the ship.

Jasoom led her directly to the elf who was helping a dwarf with  _ The Herald’s _ logo on his breast to stand. Blood ran down the side of his face but there was no wound. With a nod in thanks, he left. 

“Ms. Trevelyan. I am glad to see you are well.” How could he be so damnably calm with all of the chaos going on? 

“Could an explosion seal a rift?” she didn’t preamble with small talk. They had no time and both knew she wasn’t good at it. 

“No. Not seal it in the traditional sense. It could make it unstable enough to dissipate. It would have to be a very large explosion. I do not believe that  _ The Herald  _ currently has sufficient munitions on board for such an endeavor. Besides, to do so would render Haven uninhabitable.” He glanced over her shoulder and then behind him, ensuring they were still alone. 

“But would the Temple survive? We’ll need it to seal the Breach. It’s on the other side of Haven right now.” She prayed he would give her the answer she needed. She was flying by the seat of her pants. 

He was quiet for a moment, contemplating. Finally, Solas gave a solemn nod. “Yes, but I must reiterate that Haven would be, for all intents and purposes, destroyed and we have no way of creating the required explosive force.” 

“I do,” Jules said quietly. Sadly. She was still steeling herself for what was required of her. She walked to the nearest panel, tapping a few times. 

Solas watched her with interest. “What are you going to do?”

“The hardest thing I’ve ever done.” Jules glanced over before returning her attention to the panel. “First, I need to see a doctor.” 

|-0-|-0-|-0-|-0-|-0-|-0-|-0-|-0-|-0-|-0-|-0-|-0-|

Cas was finishing up a bandage when Jules came bursting into the medical room. He could see the pain in her eyes, the pallor to her skin under the fine sheen of sweat on her brow. He stood up abruptly, wiping his brow against his forearm. The white coat he wore over his vintage t-shirt was stained with spots of blood. 

“Fuck, Jules. Are you alright?” She could have asked the same thing of him. He always had bags under his eyes, like he was in perpetual need of a caffeine drip but he looked more haggard than usual. 

“I’m fine,” she lied quickly, forging ahead before he could challenge her on it. “Can you disconnect me from her? From  _ The Herald _ ? Now?” 

“Now? I-I don’t know. Why? Is she that damaged?” Jules appreciated that he referred to  _ The Herald  _ as a living being just as she did. 

“Yes.” She felt emotion welling up and closing her throat again. Jules followed him when he waved for her to stay with him as two more men came into the room, one helping the other onto a bed. “To save everyone, I’m going to speed up the process. I’m going to use the biggest missile we have on board and detonate it in one of the lower engine rooms.” 

It seemed more real now that she’d said the words out loud and not just let them rattle around her head. He turned to her sharply, slack-jawed and clearly alarmed. “It’s the only way to destroy the ship that came out of the rift. The one who started all of this is on that ship.” She held up her palm. “He wants to kill me for this and it is the  _ only _ way to seal the Breach. But I can’t do that if I’m dead. Can you disconnect me?” 

Cas looked overwhelmed, shaking his head slowly. “I don’t know-maybe? Delta!” He called over his shoulder. A young woman came over, the loose sleeves of her sweater pushed up her arms and tied up with gauze to keep them from falling back down. She had blood smeared on her cheek and looked like she was in way over her head. 

“This is Delta de Fairlyn. Delta, Jules,” he introduced quickly. 

Jules immediately noticed her eyes but knew she didn’t have time to comment. “You’re the one they brought in to help me, right?” 

“Yeah-I would-” she looked down at her gloved hands, also covered in blood “-I would shake your hand but…” 

“It’s okay.” Jules shook her head quickly. “It’s nice to meet you but we don’t have time.”

“Delta, do you think we can cut Jules off from  _ The Herald  _ now.” Cas cut in. 

“ _ Now? _ ” She gaped slightly, clearly blindsided. “No, there’s no way.” 

“Not right now,” Jules corrected, “right before I destroy  _ The Herald.” _

“I just got here!” Delta balked, “I don’t have the faintest idea of how to make your bionic systems independent. If we disconnect you, you'll essentially be in a coma.”

“I know that. I’m trusting you to make sure I’ll wake back up. Can you do that?” Jules was struggling to hide her pain. 

“Realistically, we’re years away from independence-” Delta started to argue before Cas cut her off. 

“We can hook you up to another ship,” he blurted out, “but we don’t have one.” 

“What about  _ The Ataashi _ ?” Jules asked quickly, trying to think of anything. If they couldn’t connect her to another system the mark on her hand was useless.

“Not big enough, not enough processing power.” Delta ruled out with a shake of her head.

“You’ll just have to find one.” Jules made it sound far more simple than it was. Delta was struck by her trust. The woman had met her all of four seconds ago. 

She glanced at Cas and something seemed to pass between them. 

“We’ll find one,” Delta said finally, “I promise.” 

“How much time do you need? If I destroy her before I’m disconnected, I’ll die.” Jules reminded them. 

“We know,” Cas assured her, “How much time do you need? We need to evacuate  _ The Herald _ .” 

“That’s my next stop. The front lines need to know that we aren’t trying to push them back anymore, we’re helping everyone escape from both here and Haven. Once I do that and find Bull, I’ll need twenty minutes. Fifteen minutes after that,  _ The Herald _ will be gone. That gives you a half-hour to shut me down. I’d like to not wait until the last minute.” Jules abhorred having to use that language. She’d grown used to thinking of herself as a person and yet, this situation reminded her that she wasn’t completely human. 

“Okay, go. Go!” Delta urged, pulling off her gloves. 

Jules didn’t hesitate, sprinting back out into the hallway. 

|-0-|-0-|-0-|-0-|-0-|-0-|-0-|-0-|-0-|-0-|-0-|-0-|

She encountered two Templars and a Venetori mage on her way to the midsection of the ship. She’d surprised the mage and dispatched him quickly, but the Templars had nearly overpowered her. Jasoom distracted one by attacking his face, a hissing storm of black fur and claws and kept him busy until she could dispatch him. 

The relief that washed through her when she finally found Morgan brought tears to her eyes. He was helping in the aftermath of a battle, his small group of men relatively unscathed compared to the bodies littering the floor made up of both templars and Venatori in crimson and gold robes. 

Crying out his name, she threw herself against him, hugging him tightly despite his armor and the battle gauntlets running up his arms. They receded into vambraces so that he could hold her tightly. The lump in her throat and the tightness in her chest hurt nearly as much as the pain in her side. 

“For fuck’s sake Jules, what are you doing here?” he breathed in her ear, face buried against her hair. “You’re supposed to be safe in Control.” 

She allowed herself another moment of peace wrapped up in his arms before she pulled away. “Do you remember the Elder One that Alexius worked for?” He nodded quickly. “He calls himself Corypheus and he’s here. On the ship that attacked us. He wants me for the mark on my hand. The only way to defeat him and get free is to destroy  _ The Herald _ .” 

“Are you insane?” he yelled, his grip on her arms tightening. “What good will that do if you’re dead?” 

“I won’t be dead! Just sleeping!” she assured him quickly, “It’s the only option we have. I don’t think  _ The Herald _ could survive the separation. Cas and Delta promised me I would wake up again. You need to help everyone evacuate any way they can. All of the vehicles in the garage are vacuum-tight. You can’t maneuver them but if you open the airlock, the force of decompression will push them all far enough away from the blast radius. There are escape pods on all levels and shuttles still in the hanger. You have half an hour.” 

“J, you can’t be serious.” There was an edge of anger in his voice. “And who the fuck is Delta?”

She stood on her tiptoes to hug him again, pressing her cheek against his. “Please, Morgan. I’m so scared, but I have to do this. Trust me and trust that it’s the right thing to do,” she whispered. 

He hesitated, stiff in her arms for a minute but Jules knew when he hugged her back tightly he’d made his decision. “I’ll get everyone I can find evacuated. When we regroup, you had better be there and you’d better be whole.” Morgan framed her face with his hands, kissing her temple. “Love you. Stay safe.” 

Jules nodded quickly, swallowing past the lump in her throat. “Love you too,” she said softly, “have you seen Bull?” 

“Yeah, I think he’s organizing the fighters in the hangar. Where are you headed? I can send someone to fetch him for you,” Morgan offered. 

“Port munitions storage, lower level.” She hesitated for a moment. “If you see Cullen...will you tell him what’s going on. And that I love him.” 

He nodded slowly. “Of course, J. I’ll make sure he knows.” 

|-0-|-0-|-0-|-0-|-0-|-0-|-0-|-0-|-0-|-0-|-0-|-0-|

Jules paced the long length of the munitions storage room. She tapped the small data chip against her palm as she did. She had just over 10 minutes to get done what she needed to. With comms down, Cas and Delta had no way of knowing if they needed to hold off. Just as she had no way of knowing if they were delayed. She just had to hope that she wouldn’t go dark before she finished her task. 

She’d previously had the distraction of a long list of things to do. Now that she was alone, every worst possible scenario played through her mind. It was all she could do to not start sobbing. She had no idea where her friends were. If she would kill one of them. If she would inadvertently kill Cullen. Jasoom interrupted her thoughts, his head bumping against her chin. She could feel his soft fur against her cheek and his heavy purr in her ear. His weight on her shoulder was familiar and grounding. He mewed softly, continuing to rub against her until she reached up and scratched the top of his head. 

“I’m okay,” she assured him softly, saying it as much for herself as she did for him, “everything is gonna be fine.” 

Jules nearly jumped out of her skin when the door opened and Bull stepped inside. The relief that washed through her was apparent enough that he chuckled. 

“Hey Boss. Heard you needed me for something?” Walking over, he brushed a finger against her shoulder, raising an eyebrow in question at the blood on it. 

“Not mine,” she promised, “had some trouble getting here. Did you know mages can cover themselves in  _ rocks _ ? Lucky for me they don’t cover their eyes. Also lucky that they’re cocky enough to roam by themselves. At least the Templars are smart enough to stay in packs.” 

“Yeah, that rock thing is a real pain in the tits.” He hefted his war hammer over her shoulder with a hungry grin. “I don’t go for the eyes. I go for the whole head.” 

She couldn’t help but smile, appreciating the levity Bull could bring to nearly any situation. Her smile faded as the reality of their situation and lack of time came back to the forefront of her mind. 

“I need you to do something for me. Not related to any of this.” Despite still not knowing what ‘any of this’ implied, he nodded. She held out the data chip. “If something happens to me will you give this to Cullen or Morgan?” 

Bull had been here before. Seen it too many times on the battlefield.  _ Tell my husband or wife I love them.  _ He’d also heard,  _ you’ll tell them yourself _ , enough times to know that more often than not, they couldn’t. It was better to give them peace in case the worst happened. Taking it, he tucked it securely away.

“So, what’re we doing?” He let the hammer fall to the floor, resting the handle against the wall. 

Turning on her heel, she walked to the far end of the compartment and slapped her hand on a missile that was nearly as long as she was, but far thicker. “We need to bring this to the engine compartment. The munitions lift won’t fit through the door. Probably because it wasn’t designed to.” 

“So, we’re blowing this beauty up? That’s why everyone is jumping ship? Well, I’m glad to know that we aren’t giving her up to these fuckers.” He walked over, looking over the missile. “Looks heavy. What is that, about six hundred pounds?” 

“Six hundred and thirty four,” Jules said with a grimace. “Can you do it?” 

“As long as you open the doors for me and clear the way. With this shape if it ends up on the floor there’s no way I can pick it up again.” He bent at the knees and centered himself beneath it, shouldering the weight. At her nod he strained, lifting the missile from it’s cradle with a grunt. 

Sprinting ahead to the door, she opened it, wedging a screwdriver in the track so that it couldn’t close behind her. She checked the hallway before running down to the massive blast doors to the 4th engine compartment. They slid open with a rumble and grating of metal against metal. 

Bull took short, lumbering steps, carefully balancing the long missile on his shoulder. He occasionally let out a huff of air and a grunt as he paused to gather his strength. Even through his grey sheen she could see his face reddening. 

“You just need to get it inside the doors,” she told him, stepping aside. With a clang that shook the floor, he dropped it once he was safely over the threshold. 

Taking a few, deep breaths, he wiped his brow before bracing himself on his knees. “Okay, what next? Don’t these things have proximity sensors so they don’t, ya know, blow up on the ship?” 

Jules was already at work, pulling off a large panel at the rear of the weapon. “Yeah, that’s why I’m gonna take it out. I’m going to activate it and we’re gonna take it with us. Once we’re far enough away from the ship, it’ll detonate.” 

He stood up again, throwing his thumb over his shoulder. “Why couldn’t we have left it in there?” 

“Both the munitions storage rooms are reinforced to contain the blast if something should happen.  _ Especially _ since they’re so close to the lower engines. There’s no such protection in here. All of the fuel is basically under our feet. Since that weird ship is latched onto our side, it’s gonna go up too.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Also, sometime in the next three to five minutes, I’m going to pass out. Hopefully not before I’m done or too long after. If I’m tied into the ship when it’s destroyed, I’m dead too.There are several ejection pods next to the armory.”

“ _ The Ataashi _ can pick us up. I already sent Krem out to pick up people. I stayed behind to make sure we didn't get overrun. Didn’t think I’d just let it happen.`` He watched her climb into the weapon up to her waist. He heard the clang of tools and a few curses from Jules. 

“We’re gettin’ awful close to your deadline, Boss.” There was an edge of nervousness in his voice that wasn’t reassuring. 

“Almost done, go get your weapon in case we run into anyone.” She had to yell to be heard clearly through the missile casing. 

With a growl of frustration, she slammed the wrench over and over against the proximity sensor, trying to dislodge the housing from it’s brackets. With a rueful laugh, it finally fell loose. She shimmied back out of the missile and hooked the sensor, about the size of her fist, from her weapons harness. 

Jasoom jumped off the top of the missile and ran in front of her as she joined Bull in the corridor. They headed back toward the center of the ship so they could circle around to the armory. Bull’s hand shot out against the wall so that she ran into his tree trunk of a forearm. His weapon was already brought to bear when they both recognized the person in front of them. 

“Cassandra!” Jules' happy cry made the Seeker let out a gasp of relief. “You were supposed to evacuate!” 

“I could not leave without ensuring that you were able to safely get off the ship.” Cassandra looked up at Bull and the corner of her lips curled into a soft smile. “Both of you.” 

“No time to celebrate,” Bull cut in, “we need to get to some sort of way off this beast before Jules turns off.” 

“Before she what?” Cassandra questioned sharply. 

As if their conversation had been the trigger, Jules’s knees gave out and she started to crumble into a heap. Bull dropped his weapon and caught her before it hit the floor. Scooping her up into his arms, he held her against his chest. 

“Alright, we need to go.  _ Now. _ ” He had to ignore Cassandra’s look of confusion and led her toward the ejection pods Jules had told him about. They opened on approach, six remaining in the row of ten. “Get in,” he ordered Cassandra gruffly, “someone needs to hold her and I’m too big.” 

Cassandra slipped in, harnessing herself as quickly as she could. Bull carefully transferred Jules to her arms, wrapping more strapping around the both. 

“Hold her head and stay safe. Krem’ll be there.” Bull knew he shouldn’t make such a promise, but everything hinged on his second being there. “I’ll be right behind you and I’ll see you back on  _ The Ataashi _ .” 

He disappeared to get into his own pod and without hesitation, Cassandra punched the button. The door slammed closed, windowless and confining, before her stomach shot into her throat as they dropped out of  _ The Herald _ . She held Jules’s head against her shoulder, eyes closed tightly as they rattled around the pod. All she could do was pray to the Maker that they didn’t hit anything, get shot or get caught in the blast radius. 

The ride smoothed out and she almost relaxed before a deafening blast, even heard through the thick walls of their pod, made her ears ring. A moment later, she felt the blast wave crash into them, sending them spinning with enough force that she almost blacked out as well. 

There were several moments of complete silence. Cassandra worried for a moment that it was because the detonation had ruptured her eardrums. Then, she heard a soft tinkling against their pod which grew louder then into dull thumps as debris shot toward them. 

As time went on, minutes dragging into an unknown number of hours, the scattering sounds of debris slowed and then stopped. Cassandra almost fell asleep, exhausted and worn from the last few hours events until she felt something clamp around her pod. 

Still holding onto Jules so tightly her muscles burned, she waited as the pod clanged against a floor and prayed to the Maker that a familiar face opened the door. 

There was a soft hiss as the seal was broken. A screech of metal as the door was wedged open painfully reminded her of her sensitive ears and the dull ring still in them. When it was finally pried off, she was infinitely relieved to see the concerned face of Cullen, Morgan looking over his shoulder with the same emotion. 

Cullen let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair. “Are you both okay?” 

Cassandra’s heart tightened as she nodded in the affirmative. He didn’t know.

Cullen reached out to shake Jules’s shoulder gently. “ _ Bijou _ , are you okay?” 

“She won’t answer,” Morgan said behind him, “ _ The Herald _ is gone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this far into the story! This is the first really big arc in the story and I'm so glad I could get it out as an early Christmas present for you! 
> 
> If you're on Tumblr, check out my feed (jacklyn-flynn) for some special holiday fluff on Christmas Eve featuring Jules and Cullen! 
> 
> <3 Jacks

**Author's Note:**

> Sincerely, from the bottom of my nerdy heart, thank you for reading this thing I made. It would make my day to hear what you thought! I hope you enjoyed it enough to stick with me through this!
> 
> If you're one of the people that helped with or supported my project on Tumblr or Discord, a super special with extra love on top thank you!
> 
> You can find me there too as jacklyn-flynn.
> 
> Really though, thank you. 
> 
> Jacklyn


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